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ADVERWSING iNFORj^TIpN Cph^^ -860-882s§|51
By Phyllis Christopher
Three friends, one attic and an afternoon of dress-up.
The animus meets the animai in aitered states.
By Lisa Palac
A iook at the time-honored reiationship between
sex and music.
Essays on pop music's sexual side by David Aaron dark,
RM, Sirius, Susie Bright, Dennis Harvey, Ann Powers,
Cwendiynn Meno and Jonathan Hayes,
By J.P. Kansas
A woman finds joy at her fingertips in a world where
heretosexuality is a fetish.
By Mike Godwin
CenderSwi
topping On-Line,
Elizabeth Williams
''^>”f‘n»otlonaltechno,exual
fetish info 2
McCabe
They showed us theirs, now we're showing you.
The winners of our image contest.
By Alice JOANou
Sex introduction after gender reconstruction.
By Granger Davis
Another Taste of Honey,
Irmu
By Lba Palac
^^•"9 into Rock's en>tlc Influence
the Mustang Ranch,
raSLISHESIS
Martin Leung, William Weiss
EDUTOK
Lisa Palac
ART RIRECTfiON
Curium Design
CULTURAL ATTACHE
Richard Kadrey
ASSOCDATE ERDTOR
Mary Elizabeth Williams
FBCTION ERfiTRR
Allison Diamond
copy EDITOR
Paul Kretkowski, Amanda Lee
CONTR8SUTINU WRITERS
Steven Blush, Susie Bright, L Castle, Da\ . ^
Aaron Clark, Mark Faigenbaum, Mike
Godwin, Keith Hammond, Dennis Ha^\^e^
Jonathan Hayes, Alice Joanou, J,P. Kansas
Paul Kimball, Casey McCabe, Judy McGum^
Gwendlynn Meno, Laura Miller, Lou
Osterberg, Ann Powers, David Rothschild
R.U. Sirius, Aubin St. Malo,
Rob Tannenbaum, Jaymes Trief
CONTRIIHUTfiN<S PHOTOGRAPHERS
Phyllis Christopher, Richard Kern, Michael
Lavine, Nathan Mandell, Tom Pitts, J.K.
Potter, Rocky Schenck, Alex Solca
COVER
Matt Gunther
CONTR8SUT8NG ARTISTS
Dennar Bildoon, Granger Davis, Comix
Person, Mimi Heft, Jeff Gompertz, David Hill,
Steven Johnson, Evan Sornstein
ART ASSISTANT
Maria Azevedo
PRODUCTION ARTIST
Elizabeth Kairys
ART INTERN
Snow Cohen
ASSISTANT TO THE PURLISHERS
Michael Johnson
CiRCULATION DIRECTOR
Daryl-Lynn Johnson
INTERNS
Keith Brown, James Ellsworth,
Catherine Jones
ADVERTISING
Industria Media Works
( 510 ) 893-1362
Future Sex (ISSN 1061*6977) is published quarterly by
Kundalini Ihiblishing, Inc. All rights reserved. Copyright ©
1994. 60 Federal Street, Suite 502, San Francisco, CA 94107.
Application to mail at Second-Class postage rates pending at
San Francisco, California, issue Date: Juiy-September 1994.
No part of this publication may be reproduced in wliole or in
part without pemiission from the publishers. Submission
guidelines available upon request with a self-addressed,
stamped envelope. Submissions will not be returned unle
accompanied by SASF.
.Annual subscription rates:
U.S. S18, Canada $2? and elsewhere S55.
Postmaster; send subscriptions and address changes to:
Future Sex. P.O. Box 31129, San Francisco, CA 94131.
Future Sex is a registered trademark of Kundalini Publishing, Inc.
All rights reserved. Printed in U.S.A.
Editorial/arculation: 415-541-7725 FAX: 415-541-9860
Email; futursex@well.sf.ca.us
lEY 010:!
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Check (✓) the box beside your selection(s)
□ 101 - Seka, Shauna Grant, Ginger Lynn, Christy Canyon & more!
□ 102- Women leap off the pages of your favorite magazines!
□ 103 - Beware, these blondes are dangerous!
□ 104 - Girls who go down on you with a vengeance!
□ 105 - The greatest seduction scenes ever filmed!
□ 106 - Women with giant breasts smother you with lust!
TKBLk
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Dress up the beautiful girl as you like, and watch her personality change. Put her in E
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FffliituOieM
there FuturesexarianS;
have read about your mag and
finally picked up Issue 5 this
week. Very stimulating, Bravo! 1
am an online slut, delving deep
into the potentials of the BBS
chat mode and oh-so-hot corre¬
spondence, getting juicy in the
cyborgasmic stew of electric love!
Cool media for this female of 30
years.
Stacey Be
yummy@dump.com
totalei
Issue 5 finally blurs the dis¬
tinction between art and porn
that so many strive to do. The
writing was excellent, the
reviews invaluable and the pho¬
tos... inspirational. Hint: Tve
noticed, as people thumb
through FS, that they really key
into the photos that appear to be
portraits of real people express¬
ing their actual sexual selves, like
Gabriella (Issue 3). Issue 5 has
left everyone Tve shown it to
with their mouths dry and other
parts moist.
Gary Montgomery-Trotter
72163.1043@CompuServe.com
inf! Ip
T really like your magazine,
and have a suggestion for the
"ultimate" pictorial: a M/F cou¬
ple that does not practice ritual
hair removal. Who invented this
ritual anyway, Bic? The title
would be something like: "The
way we really are."
Dave Wilcox
hbw6430@gold.acns.fsu.edu
1 picked up your magazine
because it promised to be inter¬
esting—somewhere between
standard porn and publications
that are strictly fetish-oriented,
such as O magazine. I like the
balance of subjects: a bit of
fetish, some ads for pornograph¬
ic CDs, sexploitation films. The
whole range of modern sexuality.
Actually, I think that Modem Sex
would be a better name than
Future Sex...
Tom Unger
unger@ra indrop.seaslug. org
Tm a bit of a technologist
(OK, computer geek) so I
thought the presentation of
cybersex in a magazine was
interesting. Tm always curious to
see how people think they can
package science and technology
to appeal to a, shall we say,
unenlightened audience. Well,
OK, I admit it, the virtual sex
idea was kind of stimulating too,
even if it won't happen for quite
a while. After all, we tend to be
voyeuristic creatures, don't we?
To be able to be a voyeur from a
participant's viewpoint, and
eventually even feel what is
going on...Yeow!
Peter Reynolds
100276.1340@CompuServe.com
Are you another "Playtronic"
or are you up to making some¬
thing more subversive, liberat¬
ing, irreverent? Will making love
to a sentient consciousness pro¬
gram teach you more about how
to connect with your inner and
external partners? Can we learn
with our machines lessons what
we missed in the normal course
of our lives?
Please don't answer any
questions. Stay in business.
You're getting your rocks off
with things have been used to
control societies for thousands of
years.
Christian Lunch
San Pedro, CA
Issue 5 was good but I wish
Future Sex was more explicit.
Issue 3 was great—the photo
layouts "Click!" and "Auto
Erotic" especially, and Lisa
Palac's editorial "Beauty and
the Beaver" was right on the
money. So let's have some
more beaver — and boner—lib¬
eration!
Joe Van Blerck
New York
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By LISH PAiAC
T he other day I
put on US3's ''Cantaloop" and started
dancing around my apartment. I didn't
think about it, I just did it. It was as
instinctive as breathing; I had to move.
Imagine a pumped-up version of Laura
Petrie cutting loose in a black demi-bra
and cropped leggings, shimmying (bra strap
slipping down) and freakin' like she's crush¬
ing cigarette butts with the tip of her pointy
shoe. It was like I'd been born knowing the
steps. This hip hop song isn't even about sex,
but the music felt so sexy to me I had to get
down.
It's a strange thing, the way music can
pop your libido when you least expect it.
Sure, lyrics make it easier to connect a good
beat with what's happening in your pants.
Listening to Prince beg, "Give it to me/Till I
just can't take no more" on "Do Me Baby"
(or on almost any Prince song, actually)
turns me on, but it doesn't always take
words for music to set off erotic impulses.
My first whiff of lust came in 1970 from
Tiger Beat babe Bobby Sherman. I lis¬
tened to "Easy Come, Easy Go" on an
AM radio that was shaped liked a little
rubber ball, and felt tiny rushes
of...something...every time I heard his candy
voice. My two closest girlfriends had respec¬
tive crushes on David Cassidy and Donny
Osmond. It was very important that we liked
different guys so we could all make marriage
plans. The three of us practiced kissing our
pillows, preparing for the big day. But my
love for Bobby disintegrated after my first
French kiss and his TV show Here Come the
Brides went off the air.
Then real seduction stepped in: Robert
Plant. While Bobby S. made me wiggle under
a girlish crush, holding my breath and press¬
ing my legs together, Robert Plant spread me
wide open. (Cher actually came between the
two Bobs, but it wasn't until college that I
cast her in my starfucking fantasies.) Between
guitar king Jimmy Page and golden boy Plant,
I was filled with prurient thoughts. Soaked in
Led Zeppelin's bluesy, driving sound, I
became magnificently unglued.
I had a big poster of Led Zep in the base¬
ment. It was tacked to a blackboard trimmed
with the alphabet that I used for playing
school when I was a little girl. I'd take this
wooden pointer—just like in real school—and
point to the different letters. Only at 13, I
used the pointer to indicate Plant's infamous
bulge. "Notice how it hangs to the left,"
I'd say to my teenage "students" in a
school-marmish tone, and we'd crack up.
In nearly every photo. Plant's shirt was
sliced open to his humungous belt buckle,
and his supertight jeans accentuated the
worn-out spot on the left. We were fascinated
by this thing, this monster in his pants. Little
did we know that such an appendage was
christening an entire subgenre of rock.
Yup, Plant had a big one and his inten¬
tions were clear when he cried "Way down
inside/Gonna give you my love/Gonna give
you every inch of my love." He even offered
to be my back-door man (whatever that was).
But it wasn't simply the words that made
their sexual mark on me. In fact, most of
Zep's songs weren't about sex. It was either
love come and love gone in the blues tradi¬
tion, or some weird mystical shit. Perhaps it
was the bassline or the screaming guitar riffs,
or Plant's delirious muhmuhmuhmOW's,
but they can't fully explain this phenome¬
non: listening to Zep automatically made
me thrust.
It felt so good to push my hips for¬
ward and grind while doing lots of
exotic lip movements. In front of my
Dennar Bildoon
□
mirror, Td imitate Plant's onstage
actions: twirling goldilocks with finger,
sticking out chest with both hands on
hips, stretching mike cord across crotch
and thrusting. When the landmark concert
film The Song Remains the Same was
released, I got to see Robert strut and
writhe for two hours. (1 was one of the only
girls in my neighborhood who went to see
it and I sat through it twice in a row.)
Imagine my shock, however, to see Plant
with his wife and kids on the big screen,
harshing my buzz. The other woman, devas¬
tation. I wanted him unattached, a free-
falling star of sexual energy.
Surprisingly, I never had sexual fantasies
about Plant. I wasn't even masturbating yet.
While I was intensely curious about his cock,
it was his entire being that seduced me. I
clung to his sexual presence the way frost
sticks to a cold glass in the heat of summer.
Slowly I began to realize something that I'd
felt all along: I didn't just want to be Plant's
chick. I wanted to be Robert Plant.
Plant had a hold on something I was
just beginning to trace the edges of: sexual
power. I didn't wonder if his gender might
make him less of a role model. With his
long, blonde curls and provocative clothes.
Plant walked the wild side of feminine
whether he knew it or not. I respected his
girlish charm and his unapologetic horni¬
ness. He had the same things inside of
him that I had inside of me. I wanted
the same respect.
With their combination of electric
thunder, sticky ballads and uncaged
sexuality. Led Zeppelin led me to the
border of my sexual awakening. Hey,
until I was able to power up my own
orgasms, rock and roll was my fuel.
Now, 16 years later, I buy
Zeppelin's box set. I throw on
"Whole Lotta Love" and I remember
every word, every lick, every nuance
with absolute precision. Without
thinking, I find myself banging
away like a mangled shutter in a
hurricane. The song definitely
remains the same.
This is the music issue of Future
Sex, exploring the timeless way
popular music influences our sexu¬
ality. We've asked rock stars, rap¬
pers and record producers to take
the primal pulse of their scene
(page 22). Next, we turned to the
critics for their undressed views on
rave, Goth, rap, pop, teen idols and
groupies (page 30). In the struggle
to figure out what makes music
erotic, however, only one thing's
for sure. You'll know it when you
hear it.
A music lover since the hippie days,
illustrator Dennar Bildoon professes a long¬
standing carnal attraction to Ronnie Spector
of The Ronettes, and is presently trying to
come to grips with the peculiar idiosyncrasies
of the Phrygian Mode.
Lxplore the NeuroNEI by hacking Into the forbidden
uiortd of dark mysteries, danger, and sensuality. Use
your computer and the UidFone to obtain enough credits
to uieui the erotic HeuroDancers uiho roam the computer
netuiork in search of milling uiemers.
BY LOU OSTERBERG
A NOVICE JOHN'S VISIT TO
THE NUSTANG RANCH
t's a clear blue
Nevada Sunday morning and Tm driving
east on Interstate 80 away from the heart
of Reno. Not going to church this morn¬
ing, Tm looking forward to a different
kind of worship; a form of prayer not
spoken highly of in the King James or
any Sunday best-seller. My palms are sweat¬
ing slightly as I spot the Mustang Exit and
leave the freeway.
Crossing a small bridge, I see a complex
with a few dozen cars in its lot. the entrance
is enclosed by a large metal gate with letters
across the top that spell out Mustang Ranch
in wrought iron. A metallic female silhouette
makes me think of disco girls in cowboy
boots.
Walking to the gate my heart pounds.
I've never been to a brothel—or even a prosti¬
tute. I'm nervous and trying not to think
about it as I press the buzzer. The gate opens
and I get the feeling I'm entering some south
Florida minimum-security prison.
I'm relieved to find that the place has a
warm if distinctly suburban feel to it. A
woman in jeans greets me and says, "Hi.
Most of the girls are eating or busy right now
but Michelle is free." Michelle is sitting on a
nearby couch. She has big hair, a receding
hairline, an inch too much eye shadow and
an overly curvaceous figure bulging out of an
ivory-colored skintight mini-dress. "Thanks.
I think I'll grab a cup of coffee." I walk over
to the bar that divides the large, oval-shaped
room.
I take a seat in the middle of the long
curved bar and get a coffee. The bartender
asks me, "First time here?" I wonder if it's
that fucking obvious.
"Could you tell?"
"Nope, just a common question around
here," she says.
From the bar I look across the room to
the couch where the working girls sit. A sky¬
light gives the room a bright, open feel.
Michelle has disappeared and now there are
two other women talking.
A tall, very pretty black woman wearing
white-leather hotpants and fringe halter top
talks animatedly with a strawberry blonde in
an ultramarine stretch-velvet dress with large
circles cut out on the sides. The dress has a
deliberately sleazy feel to it that I like. I decide
that she's the one I wanna do the wild thing
with.
I nervously finish my coffee and head
towards the couch. When I sit down, her
demeanor changes — her real personality shuts
down and a colder, business-like persona takes
over. She suddenly looks different than the
woman who was just chatting playfully with
her coworker. I ask her name and she says
Amber, carefully avoiding any eye contact. I
introduce myself and shift uncomfortably
next to her. "Do you want to go talk in one of
the rooms?" she asks. Yeah.
We walk down a dimly-lit hallway into a
small bedroom with a tape deck, bed and a
dresser cluttered with condoms and lubri¬
cants. A small black-and-white TV next to the
bed silently plays This Week With David
Brinkley. Amber asks what I'm interested in.
"Just a straight lay" I say, remembering the
proper hooker lingo for intercourse I learned
from a friend.
She replies, "That'd be $150. For $50
extra, you could get half and half, where Td
start off by sucking you then you could finish
up by fucking me."
There were no price lists posted at the
Ranch, but I heard that a hundred bucks was
the going rate. "Just a straight lay is cool."
She looks surprised that her sales pitch hasn't
work and asks why. "Sorry, $150 is just the
most I can spend," mentally checking my wal¬
let to confirm that 1 can't afford the luxury of
a little foreplay.
"Okay," she says. "First I check you out to
make sure you're clean." She motions towards
my crotch. "I need to look..." Her voice trails
off. She's embarrassed to ask me to expose
myself.
I unzip my jeans and pull them down.
With clinical precision, she lifts up my cock to
look on the underside for sores. Then she care¬
fully walks her fingers through my pubic hair
looking for little moving creatures. Satisfied
that Tm clean, she asks for the money and
immediately takes it out of the room.
When Amber comes back, she turns on a
Michael Boltonesque power ballad. She tells
me to undress as she pulls off her party dress
and lace bra. No panties. I can now see that 1
made the right decision. She is slender, with
firm orange-sized breasts and a surprisingly
attractive body.
Both naked now, she leads us into the
bathroom and begins to wash my cock and
balls as I straddle a bidet. My fears of not
being able to get it up disappear as she soaps
me, leaning her naked body against my chest.
Next, she tells me to kneel on the bed.
She pulls a Trojan off the night stand, and
rolls it onto my stiffening cock, stroking it a
couple of times, smearing on the lube. Then—
S E
without another word—she lays back; spread¬
ing her legs and her cunt open for me. I like
the reddish pubic hair around her pussy, and
the slightly swollen pink lips of her vagina.
The last of my performance anxiety dissolves
as I look at her parted legs. I think Til be able
to do this.
I slowly slide into her until my pelvis is
against her thighs. I close my eyes to concen¬
trate on the tightness around my cock and
the warmth of my balls against her ass. When
1 open my eyes again, 1 notice her tattooed
breast. A bright red-and-black crest with a
lover's name across it has been freshly etched
into her pale skin. I push hard against her
upright legs and move my body up, down
and around to feel the territory of her cunt.
She makes quick guttural noises that make
me think I might be affecting the way she
feels, but she could just be playing a part.
Getting into the rhythm of fucking, I
suddenly wonder if there is a time limit. She
didn't mention how long this was supposed
to last. Tm enjoying the sensation of flesh
against flesh when another thought occurs to
me. There is something disconcerting about
fucking someone and getting very little feed¬
back or encouragement. Despite this, I thrust
harder and harder until I come inside of the
condom, inside of her.
As soon as my orgasm ends, Amber pulls
away from me and opens a box of surgical
handiwipes on the night stand. Sliding the
condom off me, she carefully throws it in the
trash like she's handling radioactive waste.
Amber washes herself over the bidet and I
clean myself with a towel before putting my
clothes back on. As Tm slipping on my shoes
she asks, "You stayin' in Reno long?"
"Just on my way out of town. Tm visit¬
ing from San Francisco, and this was some¬
thing I wanted to check out."
"And what did you think?"
"1 think it still feels kinda weird to just
meet someone and then fuck. "
"Yeah, that's true. 1 wouldn't be doing
this if it weren't for my kids. Actually, I still
would be 'cause Tm trying to get up enough
money to go back to school."
"What do you want to study?"
"Nursing." She pauses after the setup.
"So, was I good enough for a tip?"
"Sure," I say, sheepishly reaching into
my pocket. I pull out a ten-dollar bill and put
it into the velvet Chivas Regal tip bag on the
dresser. Amber's performance was less than
enthusiastic, but I always believe in tipping
unless the service is atrocious.
We walk back down the corridor into
the large sunlit room, where a growing group
of women wait on the couches. A much larg¬
er selection now, I think. I feel a certain light¬
ness and relaxation at having broken another
societal taboo as I thank Amber and step out
into the early afternoon air.
4
Lou Osterberg is - ■ ^ -
in the silicon sate = ■ ^ - age.
David HilVs most recent works, which combine acetate
painting with photography, have been published and
exhibited throughout the Bay Area.
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U R
i
BY NIKE GODWIN
GENDER SWAPPING ON
had only been on
the BBS a few minutes when the pickup
lines started flashing across the screen in
realtime. They were remarkably consis¬
tent: Was I new here? Did 1 really like
science fiction? Did I need any help with
the system? Td never received this kind
of attention online before. But then, Td
never logged on as a female before either.
Tm comfortable in my untrendy demo¬
graphic of straight white man, but there's
always been that sneaking suspicion that per¬
haps the grass is greener on the other side of
the gender fence. So when 1 saw the chance
to play a woman—no, be a woman — on an
uninhibited board, 1 jumped at it.
Before logging on as "Mollyb" (an
homage to Molly Bloom, another highly sex¬
ual female creation of a male writer), I picked
up a few pointers on how to pass successful¬
ly. First, don't describe yourself as having a
"hot body" or big breasts or killer legs—for
some users, this gives rise to suspicions that
you're really a gay man employing deceptive
"plumage" to get male attention. (This made
intuitive sense to me; almost every woman
I've ever known has been remarkably critical
of her body and her looks in general.) The
same rule applied to anal sex. There's a com¬
mon notion in cyberspace that women won't
ask for it or initiate it. I was less interested in
bursting this myth than I was in passing
without suspicion.
The second part of my preparation
involved picking an identity. I wanted my
self-description to be both consistent and
sufficiently particular to suggest a real per¬
son. I gave Molly the body and looks of a
recent lover,
(dark, shoul¬
der-length hair,
small breasts,
and a bottom
she thought
was too big),
but made her
my age and gave
her a similar
background—a 37-
year-old, recently divorced, heterosexual
lawyer who worked in DC for the FCC.
Finally, in order to be as authentic as possi¬
ble, I resolved to try and limit Molly to say¬
ing and doing the kinds of things my lovers
had said and done with me.
I logged in for the first night, and, just
as I'd been warned, I was bombarded by
potential suitors. Most of them communicat¬
ed in the form of "pages" (private messages
sent from users) or "whispers" (private mes¬
sages sent in public chat rooms).
To tell the truth, getting all these paged
and whispered variants of the "Come here
often?" routine was rather flattering, even
though part of me remembered that any
woman on this system would get the same
attention. Jesus Christ, I wanted to be wooed.
There was no sex that first night. Frankly, I
didn't feel the chemistry was right with any¬
one.
On the second evening, however, my
luck changed. One user, in his early 30s, had
chosen a handle that signaled an interest in
Star Trek. I knew enough to make conversa¬
tion with him, and gave him plenty of
opportunities to flirt. Which he did. When
he suggested giving me a virtual massage, I
decided we should do it in a public space—
the "Hot Chat" room.
Worf: My hands move in opposite direc¬
tions, fingers spread, and make a straight firm
line from neck to tail, my thumbs on your tail-
bone, my hands, still oiled, cupping your soft
lovely ass.
Mollyb flexes the muscles of her ass, invol¬
untarily, in response.
Mollyb: I like that, Worf A lot!
Before we had gotten far, our audience
began to show up:
Worf (whispered): We seem to be drawing
a crowd... now Marvin wants in.
Mollyb (whispered): Let's ignore them and
let them watch.
The audience was well behaved, even as
our massage became sexier. A few onlookers
tried to horn in but we studiously paid atten¬
tion only to each other. The object was less
to emulate real sex than it was to say the
kinds of things that your partner would find
arousing:
Mollyb: Oooh, I like the weight of
your balls in my hand. They feel so heavy.
Worf: I inch closer to you, and you
start to use my cock like a dildo, pressing
Jeff Gompertz
the head up and down
the length of your pussy,
bumping your clit.
Mollyb: God, I am so
wet
BohX (whispered): You
lovely little slut!
And at the moment of cli¬
max, the audience shared in it:
Mollyb: I want your sweet
come inside me NOW,
Worf: And I can no longer
hold back...I push, again and
again! I stiffen and arch...and
freeze into position as I fill you up
with wave upon wave of my come!
MrArdor is clapping wildly!
Mollyb: I'm spasming so
HARD.
MsBehavior is shaking hands
with Worf.
Much of the public
applause was directed at my
partner—didn't they realize
how much I'd helped?
1 had never really had
confronted
the common
perception that lovemaking
is something that men do and
women appreciate. I'd been a
willing and equal partner in
this tryst, but now everyone
was crediting my male partner
and ignoring me. I'd known
intellectually, of course, that
women are as responsible for
their orgasms as men are, but if
I'd played the man's role in this
pocket porn drama, would 1 be
credulously basking in the audi¬
ence's praise now?
The experience had been
oddly rewarding—not because 1
was physically aroused (1 was¬
n't, except in a vague sort of
way) but because 1 loved having
put on a good show. The thrill
was not in the sex; it was in the
theatrics. It made me think—
how much of my gratification
during real sex is due to perfor¬
mance? A partner, after all, can
be a very demanding audience.
Being a different gender
allowed me to see the role-play¬
ing aspects of lovemaking I've
been doing all along.
Nothing about the experi¬
ence had rocked me to the core
of my sexual identity, but 1 did
discover that there were things
to enjoy about being a woman
online. 1 was the pursued rather
than the pursuer, and 1 could
take my pick of a legion of
eager lovers. 1 was also freer to
choose between being strong or
submissive—parts that would
take me more self-conscious
effort to play as a man, 1 could
easily slip into as a woman.
And damn it, 1 could be entirely
credible if 1 chose to come a lot
during a single lovemaking ses¬
sion! 1 came away from the
transgender experience with
the haunting sense that women
have it better.
Still, even the best, most
gratifying e-sex doesn't resolve
the tricky emotional issues that
can arise. The next night Worf
and 1 performed again, this
time in the "Anything Goes"
chat room, but it was less satis¬
fying. The problem was, 1 actu¬
ally found myself liking the
guy, and dreading the disap¬
pointment he was likely to feel
when he discovered my ruse.
During our virtual lovemaking.
I'd felt the impulse to offer
endearments, compliments. 1
wanted to please him, but felt a
bit uncomfortable when he
later told me how
fulfilling the
experience had been.
(Hadn't he sensed my increased
emotional distance this time?
Men!)
As removed as the experi¬
ence of making love online
may seem to those who don't
practice it, it's still sex, still inti¬
macy. There were things about
Worf's sexuality that 1 now
knew, and likewise some things
about me that he understood.
Just before logging on for the
first time, 1 had broken up with
a lover, and was feeling needy.
Now Worf and 1 had been sexu¬
ally close, and it was hard not
to be cheered to log in and see
him. An infatuation? Not real¬
ly, but there were warm feel¬
ings, and that old desire for a
feeling of connection.
Which is why, even
though 1 don't plan to play a
woman again anytime soon, 1
was gratified in my own way.
The women online had con¬
gratulated me for finding such
a good man to have public sex
with. Or, at least, 1 think they
were women. And 1 think he
was a man.
Mike Godwin's articles about social
and legal issues on the electronic
frontier have appeared in the
Whole Earth Review, The Quill,
Index on Censorship,
Internet World, and Wired.
JeffGompertz spends his spare time in
plastic bubbles confusing the future wth
the past at a place called F.P. U. in NYC.
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The Beverly Hills Social Club
is the newest haven for swingers living in the ^o^d's most
famous zip code. In typical Hollywood fashion, like-ftt|^§d
libertines schmooze and negotiate their mergers at elegant
parties and black-tie dances. Sex takes place off-premili%j|he
Grand Ballroom of the Hyatt is no place for an orgy, no
tpr hnw Thp hriiihanrl cinrl wifp tp;im whn run fhp ^
ter how classy. The husband and wife team who run the
enterprise say keeping their guests in line is no problem;
heck, the perfectly fabulous types who make up their
clientele barely engage in vices like drinking or smok¬
ing at their soirees;-.^Ptomoters won't name any
names, but do admit that a lot of attendees are
''people who work in the industry." That's
the> entertainment industry, in case
you were wondering.
Ullll
“oS'va?,'"* be]
S^Ui'ngg P tiefore."
comes bo/ted ‘device
astic briefcasp
for thZ , ’ the
riy
The Horny Hormone
Oysters, asparagus, vitamin E,
and ginseng have all long been
regarded for their mythic aphro-
disiacal qualities, but recent
research by the FDA concludes
there's no truth to the notions that
any of them will affect your id. One
of the few proven boosts to the
libido, however, is already in your
own system—testosterone. In a study
done on healthy men who began regular
exercise programs, subjects elevated their
levels of the male hormone, and reported
greater desire and higher sexual stamina after
just a few months. Lest anyone take these findings
as evidence that men have higher sex drives, remem¬
ber that increasing physical activity also raises testos¬
terone levels in women.
look it up
in your funk & wdgnall's
Everybody knows that the phrase rock and roll originated as a
double metaphor for doing the nasty, but that's only one example
of the verbal connection between music and sex. Here's a few more
definitions, courtesy of the Dictionary of Sexual Slang:
Blow some tunes: perform cunnilingus
Jam, Jive, Play the Horn: copulate
Groove: copulate, originally a pun on the groove of the vagina
Jazz: copulate, may have derived from gism
Funk: smell that comes from lovemaking
Mouth Music: oral sex
Playing the piano: gay analingus
n the UK, men dressing
in women's clothing has been a time-honored tram-
tion from Shakespeare through Monty Python. But
Britons apparently prefer their cross-dressing to
remain a domestic industry. Parliament, spurred by
reports of a planned satellite channel just for trans-
I vestites, recently issued a tough warning to interna¬
tional broadcasters to refrain from transmitting "porno¬
graphic" television into Britain. Minister Peter Brook said
Britain's Independent Television Commission would in
future have to warn the government of "any foreign tele¬
vision service they consider goes beyond the limits of
what is acceptable."
hen artists JoAnn Gillerman and
Rob Terry set out to create a patch-
work of public opinion on erotica in
the techno age, they figured the best
way to get folks to open up was with
a little seduction. The result was
EROS INterACTive, an electronic
kiosk that solicits candid commen¬
tary through provocatively pictured help
screens that whisper encouragements like
"Come play with me" and "Touch me here."
Created on the Silicon Graphics Indy, EROS
coaxes users to videotape their own musings
about eroticism and interactivity, as well as
peek at messages left by other participants.
Its user-flirty approach works; when EROS
was shown at the New Sensation Exhibition
in San Francisco last fall, over 250 people
sounded off in just three days. "We thought
this seemed like a good way to have a
humanish interface," says Gillerman.
Maybe it's easier telling your
thoughts to a computer if it
happens to be a smooth
talker.
11 aces aren't all that
I I are being lifted in Beverly Hills these
I days. Board-certified gynecologist David
I Matlock, MD, specializes in laser vaginal
I reconstruction—a new form of plastic
I surgery that's far more likely to improve
I your sex life than a tummy tuck and a
:ew set of tits.
Stretching may be a natural result of fac-
- rs like time and childbirth, but its unpleas-
by-product is lowered sexual satisfac-
n—for both sexes. In patient consultations,
.jitlock talks with women about their desired
gree of tightness, taking into consideration
-c.T partners' penis size.
The operation, which Matlock has per¬
med for about 1,000 women already, is
ne under general anesthesia on an outpa-
- basis. The cost ranges from $1,800 to
0 and can take from 30 to 90 minutes.
.c iiard part is waiting to try out the results;
^ery is followed by six weeks of abstinent
■ - -very. Matlock claims he's one of the few
Jiors doing this traditional surgery with
rs—and more significantly, for the pur-
of sexual gratification.
—Jayrnes Trief
S E
D O U B L E
INDEMNITY
THE RISE AND FALL OF THE SEXUAL INNUENDO
BY CASEY MCCABE
I
ITobody
l| who saw it
H will ever for-
V get it. The
1 old Tonight
I Show with
* ■ Carson. For
some unknown
reason his guest
is Mrs. Arnold
Palmer. Johnny
askS; innocently
enough, "'Do you
do anything spe¬
cial to help your husband?" "Well, before
every tournament," Mrs. Palmer replies,
equally innocent, "I kiss his balls for luck." A
beat, then Carson: "Well, I bet that really
makes his putter stand up." For one brief
moment, America stands still. Then erupts
with shocked, tumultuous laughter.
Of course nobody actually saw the show.
But before you could say "urban myth" the
episode had become playground and water¬
cooler history. Why? In those giddy days
before Howard Stern, NYPD Blue and all-nude
public access talk shows, there was only one
outlet for America's collective sexual repres¬
sion — the double-entendre.
Armed with little more than a raised eye¬
brow, a leer and words like melon, noodle,
bottom, clap, rubber, diddle and whoopee,
comedians plied our puritanical underbelly
with winks and nudges. It was, as they say, a
simpler time. A time when the word "putter"
had legitimate shock
value, and sexual ten¬
sion could be exploit¬
ed at the drop of a
hatchet. That, of
course, was a more
well-documented
Tonight Show episode.
At Carson's
behest, Daniel Boone
star Ed Ames threw
his tomahawk at a
wooden dummy,
almost magically
landing it in the crotch to create an unmis¬
takably aroused appendage. The real
epiphany wasn't the digestive pause of mil¬
lions of TV viewers, nor the cathartic burst of
laughter. It was Carson recognizing the purity
of the moment and restraining Ames from
retrieving the tomahawk. It was
an opportunity for sex-shy
America to milk the glass teat.
Ark Linkletter knew the
secret, too. The most popular seg-
li
FUTURE SEX
Mini} He ft
ment on his after-
noon TV show
■if House Party was
an interview with
" grade-schoolers
called '^Kids Say the Darndest
Things"—especially true when
Linkletter was prodding them
for embarrassing anecdotes
about Daddy's secretary or the
milkman hanging around all
morning. Innuendo from an
angel-faced child was the only
way to broach the subject of sex
on an afternoon talk show.
Imagine that. Linkletter would
later recall that the biggest
laugh the show ever produced
came when an earnest tyke,
talking about the octopus, mis¬
takenly used the word "testicle"
for "tentacle." It took a full
minute to quiet the undulating
waves of hilarity from the stu¬
dio audience of housewives.
Of course if Linkletter had
the balls to put Lenny Bruce on
his show, the same housewives
would have been outraged
should Lenny have uttered "tes¬
ticle." But they might allow a
blushing guffaw for Buddy
Hackett joking about a man
suddenly singing soprano. Now
that was funny. Perhaps more
than anyone, Bruce understood
America's sexual hypocrisy. But
all that did was land him in
court, while guys like Hackett
got gigs recycling ancient
farmer's daughter jokes.
It finally took Laugh-In's
marriage of vaudeville to the
sexual revolution for innuendo
to mature. By the time the
afternoon game show Match
Game was reintroduced in the
early 70s, Gene Rayburn was
posing such questions as, "Susie
the cheerleader wanted Johnny
the quarterback to pay less
attention to football, and more
attention to her . . . BLANK."
The contestant would meekly
say "pom-poms," Charles
Nelson Riley would counter
with "bazoombas," the audi¬
ence would howl, a match
would be made and the contes¬
tant would win something from
the famous Spiegel catalog.
More importantly, America was
coming to terms with its sexual¬
ity. By the time Match Game
went off the air it was coura¬
geously accepting the word
boobs."
The sexual revolution,
which would shelve the careers
of once-bawdy Catskills come¬
dians, made sex a matter of
pride rather than something to
be teased or hidden. Soon
Pryor, Carlin, even Mary Tyler
Moore herself were saying the
Words That Couldn't Be Said.
Before long the double-enten¬
dre had been driven into the
streets, where savvy bumper-
sticker entrepreneurs were mak¬
ing them into personalized
statements like "Scuba Divers
Do It Deeper," "Waitresses Do
It Standing Up," "Truck Drivers
Can Go All Night" and "Particle
Physicists Collide with Greater
Force and Frequency."
Today, Howard Stern is
telling millions of Americans
that he jacked off into an old
leather glove on the way too
work. Sure, we've all done it.
We lust didn't used to talk
about it. In other groundbreak¬
ing efforts, both Seinfeld and
Roseanne so successfully han¬
dled the subject of masturba¬
tion that Aaron Spelling is
reportedly developing an entire
new series about disgruntled
young singles who prefer to
play with themselves, called
Romy Palms.
This means that either our
country has grown up in
regards to sex, or that we're
frantically searching the bot¬
tom of the barrel for new
taboos to exploit. While open
sexual dialogue is no doubt a
healthy thing, so is the ability
to laugh about it. Where school
children once tittered at the
mention of a sperm whale (or
even the word "tittered"), they
now take home free condoms,
having been taught that sex can
equal death.
But even in the grim, over¬
cultivated world of sex jokes, a
flower can bloom. The most
recent story making the rounds
of water coolers involves an
episode of Love Connection (or
Studs or years earlier The
Newlywed Game) that people are
swearing a friend saw. The con¬
testant, having been asked "the
most unusual place he ever
made love," deadpanned, "That
would be up the butt. Chuck."
Note to Buddy Hackett:
America is finally ready for a
really clever fist-fucking joke.
4
Casey McCabe writes about American
pop culture in his regular column for
The Nose magazine and other national
publications. He frequently enjoys
'^polishing his apple ," if you
know what we mean.
Mimi Heft, a San Francisco designer
and illustrator, wishes she was heiress
to the trash-bag fortune, but has settled
for just the trash.
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I
Phyllis Christopher
Kiva, an ambitious 22 year old, produces her own line of XXX rated videos. See the review for Completely Kivo on page 62.
Stacy, a natural flirt, can often be found at the center of a crowd at many of the hot spots in San Francisco.
Cine is an exhibitionisf and loves sex on the beach.
Models represented by Top Flight Entertainment
Hair. John Baretta
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Models:
MUSIC IS A FORCE THAT
SHAPES THE WORLD while shining
the light back in our eyes. The words and rhythms
of the past forty years fueled revolution, birthed
language, spawned attitude (and the clothes to go
with it). Music gets under our skin like a sonic
tattoo; its rebel yells, wet grooves and ethereal
samples make us feel.
Songs about sex, of course, in all their
feel-good, feeling-stood-up glory, are always at the
top of the charts. To explain exactly haw music
puts its stamp on our sexuality and why it makes us
want to take our clothes off, however, isn't easy.
future Sex talked to writers.
singers, producers and
musicians, and asked
them for their views on
life's erotic me^yres.
, Triis is
, whdt they
had to say:
Alex Solcu
Too Short:
When I was
about 15, I
was singing
these songs
about life in
the party or
whatever, and I
had this one line
that said I had 16
Why Do You
Sms; or
Write*
About
Sex?
Debbie Harry:
Well, what else is there?
Alex Paterson (the Orb):
I would say [my music is] more fem¬
inine, really. It's more to the emo¬
tions. Ah, maybe I wish I was a
girl.
hoes suckin' 10 toes.
There was a whole rap to
go with it, but that was the
line. And that one line made every¬
body in the room laugh. And you
know. I've always been an atten¬
tion-seeker.
Baby Cirl (Hoez With Attitude):
We think and we rap and write
about sex because that is the
way of life, it's what happen¬
ing. [Sex] is necessary for life
and we love it! We love singin'
about it, we love doin' it.
Dead Lee (Sheep on Drucs):
Sex is a drug and we sing
about drugs. You can get
addicted to it.
Cristina (Boss Hog):
I do not sing specifically about
sex but rather of desire and
desperation. It is the most grat¬
ifying means I have found for
voicing my grievances. It's
either that or gouge my eyes out.
Jim Ellison
(Material Issue):
I don't. My songs gener¬
ally stop at foreplay.
Lux Interior
(The Cramps):
Any "artist type"
should be commu¬
nicating about
what interests
them most, and
those that say
there's some¬
thing more
important than
sex are either
inconceivably
dull or liars.
Mojo Nixon:
I grew up with a
bunch of uptight
hypocritical pmdes
who thought sex,
nudity and mastur¬
bation were nasty,
blue, evil, wrong.
Fuckin' is good, nekkid
is good. Killing is BAD. I
jack off in the face of the
Junior Women's League with
a purple-veined passion rod!
Whdt's
Your Idea
of Safe
Sex?
Debbie Harry:
Voyeurism.
Alex Paterson (the Orb):
I suppose it's latex, isn't it? My idea, at
the moment, would be just making sure
you've got a condom in your pocket.
Michael Franti:
Having a healthy imagination.
Jim Ellison (Material Issue):
Phone sex.
Cristina (Boss Hog):
I suspect you would prefer something clever
and witty like, any sex other than that with a
rabid dog, but the truth is I don't believe
in risking your life for a single sexual
encounter. No
exchange of bodily
fluids.
Co-Di
(Hoez With
Attitude):
Getting the
right partner
and not hitting
your head on
the head-
board.
Tim Skold
(Shotgun
Messiah):
That's an oxy¬
moron, "safe sex."
'Cause sex isn't sup¬
posed to be safe.
Well, I'm monoga¬
mous, and I have a
girlfriend—a good
combination.
Too Short:
No sex.
Steve Albini:
I remember reading a list
of things never to do
with your dick. One of
them was using it to see
if that electric pencil
sharpener is plugged in.
^ As THE BLONDE HALF OF SWEDISH INDIE
rock/techno duo Shotgun Messiah, Tim
Skold wrote "Sex," off their third album
Violent New Breed, (Relativity) where he
AMUSINGLY CROONS, "I'M COMIN' INSIDE/IT'S
so WE CAN BOND FOREVER...."
Co-Di (Hoez With Attitude):
I think it's a sexual awakening.
People are awakening to the
dangers of sex, therefore they're
f , taking new alternatives to protect
f j themselves. So in that sense,
yeah, I do think it's a revolution.
re we
Are
in trie,,
^ middle
of atiotner,
, sexual
revolution?
Steve Albini:
If I get this right, the first sexual revolution
was the one where conventional definitions of
sexual boundaries went by the wayside and
opened the door to all the options, other than
one-on-one heterosexual sex
in prescribed
*<<The latest EP from
Hoex With Attitude
(H.W.A.) Az Much
Ass Azz U Want
(Ruthless) sends the
MESSAGE THAT WOMEN
ARE NO LONGER WILL¬
ING TO ACCEPT THE
David Roth
Rock and roll Is all about
attitudes. And if that's the case, then you only
have one sexual revolution because then any¬
thing after that is fair game. What would
another revolution be? Going back to
Puritanism?
Lux Ivnuuoii (The Cramps):
Judging by the ugly baggy fashions of today,
I'd say most folks are on their way back to the
Dark Ages.
Mojo Nixon:
There are always horny people on the sexual
frontier. The revolution is just the media run-
nin' with it for six weeks. The fornication
army is always there, hidin' in the shadows.
Michael Franti:
• ' --r person in America,
—tally know thirty
ole who have
of AIDS, and
; puts a differ-
light on sexu-
^ for my gen-
■—i. People
have to
; differ-
/ about
they're
eping
A, the
! of sex
'T have,
j pro-
c t i n g
Lem-
i V e s .
And that makes people think twice before
jumping in bed with anybody.
Whdt music
puts you
in the mood?
Lux Inurior (The Cramps):
Weird bachelor-pad mood music of the 50s,
'cause it was scientifically engineered for this
purpose. Like Esquivel or Leo Diamond.
Debbie Harry:
All music. It all gets me wet.
Mofo Nixon:
A1 Green, John Lee Hooker, Muddy Waters,
Marvin Gaye. Fuckin'-in-the-dirt-like the-ani-
mals-we-are music.
Alex Paterson (the Orb):
Reggae.
Crishna (Boss Hoc):
Sometimes 50s strip music like Las Vegas
Grind or the anguished cry of Mavis Staples
singing "I'm Cornin' Home" will make me
sweat. But generally it's people, not music,
that put me in the mood.
Tim Skold (Shotgun Messiah):
180+ bpm rave stuff because in general, those
songs go on for a good eight minutes.
Too Short:
Love songs from the 70s. What I grew up on—
Isley Brothers, Whispers, Aretha Franklin, Earth
Wind and Fire love songs, all that stuff.
Baby Girl (Hoez With AmruDE):
That would explode the mood! That would
just make the mood that much better. 'Cause
then you can be like, "Muthafucka, don't you
hear what I'm sayin?" I don't have to say any¬
thing, the record can say the rest.
King Duncan (Sheep on Drugs):
I would feel proud, raunchy and sexy.. .extra sexy.
Did you have a
particular
experience
that
changed
your
sexual
Tm Skold
(Shotgun Messiah):
Um... puberty?
TooShorh
Falling in love. My out¬
look before that was, get
some pussy from whoever
you feel like fucking, and
that's just what it was. But
then when I fell in love, I
found out that sex got
better with someone ■-f"!
that you loved. You got IJLALlwUlx.
to do it over and over
and over again, and somebody knows you,
and you don't have to ask for things, you just
automatically get it—that's the best thing you
could ever have. A person who knows you.
King Duncan (Sikep on Drugs): |
All sexual experience has changed my out- ^
look somewhat. I'll try anything once, and if
its nice I'll do it twice. Sex has been a process
of getting comfortable with myself. Really
good sex was when I wasn't afraid. Being in
love makes a difference.
CiUSTiNA (Boss Hog):
Fucking Jon Spencer changed my life.
Y IS
, AND
I WILL BE,
How would you
feel if you heard one of
your own songs during an
amorous encounter?
Mojo Nixon:
The first time I was with a girl who
wanted to fuck and come. I didn't say
no or give a reluctant, "Now we must
get married," but "Yes! Let's go to a
motel and watch things swell." Yahoo!
Debbk Harry^ Im Eluson, Grhtina, Lux
Interkh^ Mo|o Nixon, Alex Paterson:
Distracted.
Michael Franti:
Every time I have sex. I try not to be totally
stupid. I try to learn something every time.
breaking rules. In
our case, David Yow, lead singer of punk
foursome The Jesus Lizard, and producer
Steve AlbinI decided to answer their own
questions about sex.
Da¥R> YoWt Steve has another man ever had
occasion to say to you, ' Whoa Steve, god¬
damn, your dick stinks!"?
Steve Albini: No, but I do remember a couple
of years ago, David, that you said to me,
"Wow, your balls are really bright red."
DY: Did I?
$A: Yeah. I was wearing these nearly see-
through trousers and my bag was hanging out
at breakfast one morning—I was The Jesus
Lizard's sound man on a road trip—and you
made some mention of the fact that my testi¬
cles were bright red. I think you said some¬
thing like, "What's going on with your balls?"
This was at Denny's, very early in the morning.
DY: And then I said, "But they taste delicious!"
OK, have you ever gone up to a girl you didn't
know and asked her "Excuse me. Is your
Debbie hairy?"
SA: No.
A Best known as cuitarist/vocalist for landmark early-80s Rust Belt rock band Bic Black,
Steve Albini also recorded the most recent albums by Nirvana and P.J. Harvey. His new
BANK, Shellac, just released two singles on Chicago's Touch and Go label.
[2'
H(hK\ Si hcnik
SA: No, I'm just actively attracted to
women with very coarse features. Big
gnarly eyebrows, big noses, glasses.
DY: Beards?
SA: No. A huge mouth is an enor¬
mous turn-on. With a lot of teeth in
it. I'm sort of into the thick-
spectacled-jewish-math-major look.
Very geeky, kind of a sinus problem.
You know what I'm talking about?
SA: It's hard to explain,
DY: Alright, next question. What's
the most potentially dangerous
place you've had sex? I've enjoyed it
in the back of a pick-up truck during
rush hour.
SA: That reminds me, my girlfriend
and I once did it in a van on the way
to a drive-in. jon Spencer and his wife
Cristina were in the van at the time.
DY: Did they know you were doing it?
SA: Probably. Um, have you ever
had great sex with an ugly woman
or terrible sex with a beautiful
woman?
A There is nothing like a jEsus Lizard show, except maybe witnessing an accident on the highway.
Gut-bucket vocalist David Yow is as unpredictable as an early Iggy Pop. Their recent EP Lash is a
MIX OF conscious FRENZY AND CHAOTIC SEXUALITY.
DY: Yeah, both.
SA: Actually, I kinda like ugly
women. Homely women, beastly
women, hatchet-faced women, kind
of crude horse-like women do turn
my crank.
SA: 1 find them much more interest¬
ing to look at.
DY: Do you feel charitable when
you...?
Alex Paterson (the Oral):
Losing my virginity. That's an English
answer, I think.
Have you ever
made or read
a statement about
sex that's come
back to haunt you?
you say that!" Well, sometimes my mouth
just goes, and my brain gauges later.
Tim Skold (SHonrciM KIessiah):
I remember Boy George talking about Glam.
That it was okay to look like a girl because
you were only kidding, and everybody knew
you were only kidding. The real deal was
harder to swallow. 1 thought that was an
interesting observation.
Alex Pahrson (the Ors):
1 find Madonna quite haunting. It's not what
she says, it's just the way she is, really.
Do you hope
your work erotically
inspires people/
Too Short:
I don't hope it has, but I know that there are
people out there who like that dirty shit, you
know? I mean. I've come across women
who've said that they wanted to have sex
with me. From the way I rap, they think I
would do it good. It doesn't really turn me
on, listening to Too Short. But I could under¬
stand if somebody always sang about how
they fucked, it would be like, then show me
how you fuck.
tional stu
way. When I'm
on stage, I'm
afraid. I feel
up there and
audience is h
ing me feel that
Alex Paterson
(the Orb)*
Yes. Pe
write and
they
up
their ow
kind of B1
Room, which
an Orb trac
Those sort
things are
ly nice
hear. We
into
bits of pe
pie's lives a
opposed to [them]
just sitting at home
and listening to music, it
actually gets them creatively
involved. And I suppose [the
music] is nice to go to bed
with, so...
A Singer Lux Interior
AND HIS band, The Cramps,
MERGE ROCKABILLY SOUND
WITH DRIVE-IN TRASH MOVIE
IMAGERY AND A TASTE FOR
B/D SEXUALITY.
Cmstina (Boss Hoc):
I wouldn't go so far as to say hope or inspired.
It would be nice if it affected people in any
way, I suppose. Generally though, I don't
spend time wondering how other people
respond to my work, although there are a few
specific individuals I hope agonize over my
naked image.
Debbihe Harry:
Oh God yes! Especially when your music is
played in clubs you hope that it's going to
make someone somewhere hop in the back
seat of their car and do it.
Lux iNfimR (The Cramm^:
Yes. I hope it gives them ideas about flesh
and its various coverings like zippers and
straps.
Debbie Harry:
Somewhere along the line I think I said, "Sex
is the greatest marketing tool." Ugh.
Too Short:
Well, I was always scared of this one line I
had about Nancy Reagan sucking my dick.
And you know, it was not intended to disre¬
spect the President of the United States, but I
always was like, maybe
you shouldn't have
said that. But it went
out, and it was one of
the most popular lines
of my live perfor¬
mance.
Alex Paterson is the brain of
THE Orb. Taking its name from
THE ECSTASY-INDUCING BALL IN
Woody Allen's Sleeper, the Orb
GOES BEYOND THE GENRE OF AMBI¬
ENT HOUSE MUSIC AND INTO THE
BLISS OF DEEP SPACE. If
Mo|o Nixon:
I once told my
wife she was so
fine "I'd suck her
daddy's dick!" It
turned out to be
much bigger than
I expected.
Kinc Duncan
(Sheer on Drucs):
I did an interview
with [New Musical
Express] and I was
just chatting away with the guy and I said,
"Sometimes I like to smoke crack, and some¬
times I like to fuck my girlfriend in the ass.
Sometimes I like to have a cup of tea with my
mum. I don't know if ordinary Joe does these
things, but I'm sure he probably does." They
made it this huge headline. My girlfriend was
really angry with me. She said "How could
Dead Lee (Sheer on Drucs):
We got one fan let¬
ter from a girl that
was written on the
back of one of
those prostitutes'
calling cards [you
find in] London
phone books. She
said it was like los¬
ing her virginity,
being at our gig.
Kmc Duncan (Sheer
ON Drucs):
I hope it makes
A King Duncan AND Dead Lee people feel Sexy
ARE Sheep on Drugs, the Indus- about themselves for
TRIAL DANCE BAND RESPONSIBLE right reaSOUS
FOR Grace Jone's latest single, ^® ,
"Sex Drive." Not in the conven¬
T With eight albums under
HIS BELT, Too Short holds
ONE OF THE MOST SUCCESSFUL
TRACK RECORDS IN RAP MUSIC.
His LATEST album, CetIn
Where You Fit In (Jive), is
ANOTHER CHAPTER IN THE
ONGOING SAGA OF SHORTY
THE Pimp.
Baby Cirl
(Hoez With Attitude) :
I think so because we have
a lot of females and males
coming up to us and saying
how much they love the
songs about oral sex and
other sexual things. The
women say, 'This is what I
want you to do for me/'
and the guys say, "Hey,
this is what I want
to do for you."
erbfi(2^mat
inspires
yolji • ^
couldn't give you names of actresses or films.
I don't ever get erotically excited reading
dirty books. Sex scenes in novels and stuff
don't make myself to stiffen.
David Yow (The Jesus Lizard):
I remember being a little kid laying on my
stomach watching TV, watching Bewitched.
And I didn't know exactly what it was, but
there was a sort of throbbing, tickling sensa¬
tion going on down there in my "front bot¬
tom" as my mother called it at the time. And
I remember many times afterwards trying to
get that weird throb back again by laying on
the floor and watching Bewitched,
wishing it would happen again—
and it did.
Steve Aebini:
Oh yeah, Elizabeth Mont¬
gomery was a real bell-ringer.
Steve Aibini:
That inspires me?
Sometimes if I
watch pornogra¬
phy it'll give me a
hard-on, if it's a
really attractive
woman who is obvi¬
ously very involved in
the moment, as it were. I
Baby Gire (Hoez With Attitude):
When you have it in you already—I mean,
books are cool—^but all of it, it's a beautiful
thing when it's in you already and it just
comes out with that certain individual.
Lux Interior (The Cramps):
60s exploitation movies such as Please Don't
Touch Me or Nest Of The Cuckoo Bird, 50s 3D
pin-up photography and most of Marcel
Duchamp's stuff.
King Duncan (Sheep on Drugs):
If I want to have a quick wank I might look at
► Mojo Nixon recently
SPAWNED A NEW COUNTRY
RECORD TITLED PRAIRIE HOME
Invasion, featuring Jello
Biafra. His big hit was "Elvis is
Everywhere," and like The
King himself. Mop's always
UP FOR A hunk of BURNIN' LOVE.
some porn. But gener¬
ally, I don't really like
porn. Sex is not a
slut with her
legs splayed
and a dildo
in her ass to
me. Sex is a lot
of other things.
Erotic is more an
emotion I feel with
people.
Debbie Harry;
Sculpture. Sculpture is incredibly erotic, espe¬
cially Japanese sculpture. And films, they
don't necessarily have to be about sex to
arouse me. I've always loved Fellini. And Tm
a big Pasolini fan.
Cristina (Boss Hog):
Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson.
And I liked the films The Piano and Tokyo
Decadence.
Too Short:
In order to exercise my dirty mind, I have to
have some type of dirty thoughts at various
times of the day. Tm one of those guys that
goes into the store and flips the pages on
those dirty shelves, you know? I'll admit -G
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OUT pTTU^
Marvin Cave:
"I'm a dominant
sexual partner
usually...Tm not
a whore either.
I'm promiscuous
yes, but a very
selective one."
Sharon Davis, /
Heard It Through
The Grapevine,
Mainstream
Publishing
Company 1991.
Lester Bancs: "Think ni rape my
wank-fantasy cunt dog-style
tonight." Lester Bangs, Psychotic
Reactions and Carburator Dung,
Vintage Books 1987.
Buffy Sainte-Marie:
"Music has been
my playmate, my
lover and my crying
towel. It gets me off
like nothing else."
Ms., March 1975.
Kurt Cobain: "I'm
definitely gay in
spirit, and I proba¬
bly could be
bisexual...If I would¬
n't have found
Courtney, I proba¬
bly would have carried on with a
bisexual life-style." The Advocate,
Februaryl 993.
Diamanda Galas: "...If sex is
merely gentle and peaceful. I'm
not even interested." Angry
Women, Re/Search Press 1991.
Julio Iclesias: "I
love women. I love deep
women...But it Is not a question
of passing through women like
one passes through showers in the
morning...! need the warmth of a
woman, but I also need the con¬
frontation. I need the deepness of
the brains." Interview, june 1992.
Michael Jackson: "I'm a gentle¬
man." During a television inter¬
view, In response to Oprah
Winfrey's question, "Are you a vir¬
gin?" ABC Special, February 1993.
Joan Jett (on the Runaways'
experience with interviews): "The
first question would be, 'I heard
you girls are all sluts, right?'"
Gillian G. Gaar, She's A Rebel, Seal
Press 1992.
jANis Joplin: "My music ain't sup¬
posed to make you want to riot.
My music's supposed to make you
want to fuck." Gillian G. Gaar,
She's A Rebel, Seal Press 1992.
Lydia Lunch:". ..dick-licking—
something everyone has done ...
show me the woman who hasn't
and I'll show you a
woman who doesn't
know what she's
missing." BravEar,
1982
Madonna: "I like my
pussy...Sometimes I
stick my finger in my
pussy and wiggle it
around the dark wet¬
ness and feel what a
cock or a tongue
must feel when I'm
sitting on it. 1 pull my
finger out and 1
always taste it and
smell it...! love my
pussy, it Is the complete summa¬
tion of my life...My pussy is the
temple of learning." Madonna,
Sex, Warner Books 1992.
Robert Plant: "You can't know
much about sex...The instruction
is to enjoy yourself and be as cool
as you can, and
now, as careful
as you can."
Interview, june
1993.
Henry Rollins:
"I'll have my arm
around a girl—I'll
see two, and I'll
want to screw
that one, that
one, that one,
that one—any¬
thing that looks
good. I want it.
There's nothing
wrong with me...It's Darwin kick¬
ing...going, 'Keep the species
going.'" Ear Magazine, 1988
Tina Turner: "Naturally I lost my
virginity in the backseat of a car:
This was the 50s, right?...Well, it
hurt so bad—I think my earlobes
were hurting." I, Tina, Avon Books
1986.
Frank Zappa: "My attitude toward
anybody's sexual persuasion is
this: without deviation from the
norm, progress Is not possible."
the safer planet sex diary, Tuppy
Owens 1994.
—Compiled by Allison Diamond
► After doing time with late-80s
PUNKSTERS Pussy Galore, Cristina
Martinez formed her own noise
fest, Boss Hog. Her latest release is
CIRL+ (Amphetamine Reptile).
to jacking off in the
bathroom and what
else...got a nice little
porno movie collection.
I'm a self-proclaimed
freak. That doesn't mean
I do nasty things, but I
really enjoy sex, you
know?
Alex Paterson (the Orb):
Apocalypse Now and
Blade Runner, the actual
book. It's called Do
Androids Dream of Electric
Sheep?
A BAND THAT WRITES
A LOT OF COOL
SONGS WITH GIRLS'
NAMES IN THE
TITLES. Freak City
Soundtrack
(Mercury) is
THEIR LATEST
RELEASE.
Kinc Duncan (Sheep on Druos):
Maybe people'll be a bit more
adventurous and try different
things, like a bit of S/M or sodomy.
People will be less ashamed. It's
cool to be kinky.
Alex PATiRSON (the Orb):
Unless we develop 12-foot
penises that can bend around
corners to make sex different, I
have no idea what you'd really change
about the reproductive system.
sexually explicit, but there are
undertones of sex throughout the
whole thing.
Do you think
sex will be
different b>
the end of
the century?
The end of
the next
millennium?
Steve Albini:
Come on, that's such a preposter¬
ous, early-70s science fiction
notion of the future. The future is
going to be pretty much the same
way it is now, as it was 50 years
ago or 100 years ago. The only
difference is the trinkets that we'll
use, the different means of com¬
munication and transportation
and information distribution.
Baby Girl (Hoez With ATTrruDi):
Talking about sexuality is going
to bring along new freedom.
Debbie Harry:
I think we'll find a way to
reproduce asexually.
Mo|0 Nixon:
The tease. The art of
erotic revelation and the horny
in everyday—not models and
actors and freaks of nature—but
John Doe fuckin' in his truck
durin' his lunch break.
Michael Franti:
I thought that film Daughters of
the Dust was erotic. Its the first
film that I know of
that shows black
women up
close, like
full face
shots on
screen. Its
not even
What would
happen if
you could be
sexually^ ,
^ satisfied 24
hours a day?
AiiX pATIgSQN (THi ORU):
I'd have a pretty sore knob.
Mojo Nixon:
Like the proverbial dog who can
lick his own balls, I wouldn't get
outta the house much.
Tim SKOio (Ihotcon MfSiiAH):
I'd be happy, I guess. And
bruised.
Too Snoiit:
I've been there be-fore—I would
probably have a lover who was
just as I wanted her to be. I like
a woman that has a natural
look, even after you've been
banging it around the bed, ain't
got up in 24 hours, there's still a
certain beauty about her, you
know? That doesn't necessarily
mean she's got to be light¬
skinned with long hair, but I
mean you know, just a certain
beauty, a natural beauty and it
doesn't take any lipstick or
makeup to bring that beauty
out.
CmiTiNA (Boss Hoo);
My life would be boring. What
would I have to look forward to?
I revel in my misery.
Im iNTiRiOB (Thi Crambs):
No waiting.
Dead Lee (Sheep on Drucs):
1 am sexually satisfied 24
hours a day.
David Vow
(The Jesus Lizard):
Other than being sexually
satisfied, not much. 1 mean
that would even prevent me
from having the dessert
cigarette.
Baby CiIRI
(Hoez With Attitude);
Td put the Ben Wa company out
of business. And when that time
comes, trust me, Tm going to
call you guys up and let you
know. I'm going to write a song
about it. It'll be a beautiful thing.
af
Special thanks to the following people
for their help with this feature:
David Rothschild is a Chicago-based \
freelance writer whose "Home Front" :
local music column appears weekly in
the Chicago Tribune. Rothschild also
writes about computers, sex, death and |
taxes. His online address is i
Nelsonl3@aol.com.
Gwendlynn Meno's essay "R&B & The
Bedroom" appears on page 34.
Judy Mcguire is a NYC-based freelancer
living in a cramped apartment with her
cockatiel Albert and her man Lou.
Steven Blush is the publisher of Seconds !
magazine. His work has appeared in \
Details, New Musical Express and
Interview. |
i
Allison Diamond and Daryl-Lynn
Johnson are on staff at Future Sex. i
Jim liuioN
(Materiai Issue):
Td probably marry
her.
DEBBii Harry:
I've come very close
to being sexually
satisfied 24 hours a
day, very close, but
not quite. I think
if I was sexually
satisfied all the time,
then I would forget
that I was sexually
satisfied and Td have
to do something
to come down.
Like commit
murder or
something.
^ The former
SINGER FOR
Disposable Heroes
OF Hiphoprisy,
Michael Franti
VOTES WITH HIS
voice, instilling
INTELLIGENCE INTO
THE ONGOING RAP
DIALOGUE.
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By BAVID AARON CLARK
qj4.
6^ d
devotee of tJie
macabre; I will
testify that when
it comes to S/M and the
darker lusts, there's
no better pop sound¬
track than Goth.
Yes, Tm a black-clad,
scar-necked sap, libido
damaged by a youth full
of Saturday-afternoon
Hammer Film Studio
blood-sex-terror epics,
not to mention under-
the-covers, over-voracious consumptions of
Stoker, Shelly and LeFanu. I grew up swooning
for Camilla's sharp kiss, Lillith's treacherous
caress, Salome's murderous bump 'n' grind.
Vampirella and her skimpy shiny red one-
piece complemented by Bettie Page bangs and
Christopher Lee fangs launched my interest in
the female anatomy to heights undreamed of
prior to the fifth grade, contraband covers
peeking up at me from the bottom of my gym
bag when multiplication tables grew too, too
boring. So what better eventual accompani¬
ment to all this Halloween lust than would-be
princes of darkness like Nick Cave, Andrew
Eldritch and Glenn Danzig?
True, these singers technically fall into
different sub-genres, but the swagger remains
the same. Metal, "alternative" or punk, the
mad eyes glaring from under pale brows
framed by dyed-black hair betray the common
conceit: There's nothing scarier than a good
fuck. Or sexier than a good scare.
Aussie badboy Cave mmbles in
front of his band the Bad Seeds on The
First Bom Is Dead, bemoaning the siren
entrapment practiced by the barely ripe
fruit of "The Little Girl Tree:" "I
know your candybones will be the
death of me." Eldritch snarls
field orders during the Sisters
of Mercy's "Lucretia, My
Reflection:" " 1 see the pain
and the sadness of the dispos¬
sessed/ Get down, get undressed."
And it works for girls,
too: Lydia Lunch is the original
death-venerating, whiny, ballbusting domi-
natrix/punk goddess. Her moans of orgasmic
pain bring a whole new meaning to verbal
abuse, delivering aural S/M that sinks
beneath the second skin and churn the
blood restless. Lunch's cover of AM radio hit
"Don't Fear the Reaper" exposed the fatal
attraction lurking beneath the original's
sweet guitar strum.
Goth and S/M strike the same chord:
The color scheme, the fabrics, the arcane
fetishistic accessories, the studied ritual and
romance are near-interchangeable. Sallow
groupies dressed in silver and black leather
and drowning in mascara yearn to burn
when buff little Glenn Danzig flexes his pecs
and croaks the death-metal anthem "Under
Her Black Wings"; or when The Cure's
greasepaint-smeared Robert Smith wiggles his
black spidery arms and croons before con¬
suming "The Caterpillar" in an act of erotic
cannibalism.
The melodrama of Goth demands
byzantine and radical sexual scenarios—
plain old rutting just won't do. Major
masochist that I am, I know there's no bet¬
ter music to be pierced and cut by than the
renaissance-trance howls of Dead Can
Dance. Or the Goth granddaddies the
Velvets droning through the stately
"Venus in Furs." Lou Reed's adaptation of
Sacher-Masoch's seminal novel of erotic
torture is always best heard on your
knees.
David Aaron Clark is the author of The Wet
Forever and Sister Radiance (Rhinoceros
Books). His band False Virgins recorded two
albums in the early VO's, and he's cur¬
rently working on a modem interpre¬
tation ofde Sade's Juliette.
Q
.u
he term groupie
III came into use in
I * the 60s to describe
I girls who had sex
I with guys who
I were rock stars.
JL Undoubtedly,
powerful males had
groupies before that. A
dude like Napoleon
could have demanded as
much pussy as he pos¬
sibly wanted, but there
must have been plenty
of volunteers.
A rock journalist
recently told me, pri¬
vately—and rather
sadly—that, "Those
old days of wrecking
hotel rooms and
impregnating local
underaged girls are
gone." Even classic
cock-rockers like
Guns Vn' Roses and
Aerosmith are much
more careful then rock
stars were in the good
old days, when Rolling
Stone reporters could
witness and write about
the gangbanging of a
high school virgin on
the Rolling Stones' air¬
plane by band and staff
members, wdth the Mick
cornin' last on the back
end. [Note: gangbanging
refers here neither to drive-
by shootings nor rape, but
consensual sex between a
woman and several men.).
Gender equality part¬
ly accounts for the less¬
ening of grand deca¬
dence and perversity
among male rock stars,
but so does political cor
redness. Rock culture
BY R.U. SIRIUS
critic Greil Marcus
has written about
the nerdy, neo-
Marxist, early-80s
English bands
(Gang of Four,
The Mekons, etc.)
more concerned
with critiquing
the social and
economic rela¬
tions of sex than
with having it.
And today's
"grunge"
bands write
about hopeless
relationships
awash in trivi¬
ality and fear
of intimacy...no,
make that fear
of everything.
But the con¬
servative, cor¬
porate atmos¬
phere of the
music industry
is the biggest
culprit. The
decadent, aging
rock star has
become the
politicized elder
statesmen, almost
Gore-like in stiff-
1957:
1959:
1964:
1967:
1967:
1968:
1969:
1970;
jerry Lee Lewis
The first of
The FBI, after
The Rolling
Marianne
john Lennon
jim Morrison
Peter Yarrow of
raises eyebrows
Chuck Berry's
investigating
Stones appear
Faithfull and
and Yoko Ono
arrested for
Peter, Paul and
by wedding his
many indict¬
The Kingsmen's
on The Ed
Mick Jagger
appear com¬
drunkenly wav¬
Mary arrested
13-year-old
ments for a sex¬
"Louie Louie"
Sullivan Show
arrested at
pletely nude on
ing his dick
for "taking
cousin.
ual offense, this
for suspected
and are forced
Mick's home.
the cover of
around onstage
immoral liber¬
one involving a
obscenity, con¬
to change the
with Marianne
their latest
in Miami.
ties" with a 14-
prostitute.
clude that they
words "Let's
escorted to jail
album Two
year-old girl,
have no idea
spend the night
in nothing but a
Virgins.
shortly after
what the song
together" to
white bearskin
receiving the
is about.
"Let's spend
rug.
Grammy for the
some time
year's Best
together."
Children's
Album.
Teenagers
always find
reasons to live
and die in popular
music. Getting older
automatically grinds this passion to a halt,
as we become simultaneously more cynical
and invested. But you never forget your
first, and my first was Jimi Hendrix. He
was, as they say, a fuckin' genius, who died
ness and rectitude. The all
night party has given way
to the after-show meeting
with accountants and
lawyers. Cocaine and
Pernod have been
replaced by vegetarian
fare and Perrier.
Waking up at 1 pm to
stare at old Gong Show
repeats lost out to the
early-morning jog. All,
of course, in a bid for
rock and roll longevity;
a dubious concept
when you consider that
overfed, aging rock stars
may actually make bet¬
ter music if they're a lit¬
tle bit strung out, since
that allows them to main¬
tain some semblance of
freakishness long after the
accountant's bottom line has
dominated their conscious¬
ness.
Voyeuristic rock fans need¬
n't despair completely. After
all, Tve only been talking
about "heterosexual" white
boys who, by the way, no
longer dominate the charts.
For everyone else, rock and
roll still means sex. And their
fans are still slaves to the
rhythm.
¥■
RM Sirius is co-founder and
Icon-at-large for Mondo 2000
magazine and vocalistAead
conceptualist for MondoVanilli.
He is also a freelance
multimedia brat.
at the height of our country's discontent,
an estrangement he described many times
in his lyrics. He commented on society's
rules and wages of war as a veteran who
knew firsthand the black, brown and work¬
ing class shades of America's ground
troops. For these reasons, 1 idolize him not
only as a revolutionary guitarist, but as a
revolutionary.
But there is something about Jimi's
sound, rather than the lyrics or the times
he lived in, that makes me want to be free,
in that classic sense of no inhibitions, no
authority. Many who revere Hendrix rap
about his technical mastery and mystery.
But the biggest mystery to me isn't how he
achieved his outlandish distortion, it's
how he made my world seem so distorted;
why "If six turned out to be nine/ 1 don't
mind, I don't mind." Tve been playing
Electric Ladyland regularly for 20 years now,
but 1 didn't examine what Jimi meant to
me until I had a very weird flashback
in 1986.
It was the day the US
bombed Libya and I was at
a lesbian strip show. Every
Tuesday, 1 co-hosted a
women-only strip club and
this evening was the usual
200-plus crowd of leather
dykes, financial district
escapees and Midwestern
tourists. The strippers were
all local girls who danced
to Top 40, which at
that time was a string of
tunes by Janet Jackson,
Aerosmith and Vanity. An
80s crowd, an 80s beat,
and the last thing I expect¬
ed to hear was "Machine
Gun," the title track and
antiwar anthem from
Hendrix's 1970 release.
The first riffs erupted on
a bare stage, and then a
yellow spotlight came up.
Out of the darkness, an
"older" dancer named Lupe
(almost 30) crawled onstage on her belly, in
a combat uniform and a gas mask. She was
a death spirit; her body was contorted and
furious and the only thing erotic about it
was Hendrix's ferocious rat-a-tat-tat making
her little body undulate. Her set took 12
and a half minutes, and the one thing that
never came off was the gas mask.
I don't know what the girls at the
cocktail tables were thinking. I don't know
if cruising came to a halt. Most of the audi¬
ence was younger than me, and 1 doubt
they could remember Walter Cronkite
announcing the number of dead in
Vietnam. When Lupe left the stage, she
was soaking wet. 1 didn't know if it was
tears or sweat dripping off her face. But
when she saw everything running down
my face, she hugged me and began to cry
in earnest. "You know why I did it, you
know," she said.
We'd both spent umpteen hours lis¬
tening to Machine Gun (Hendrix's most
political and "black" work) during our
coming of age, simultaneously chewing
mucho peyote, making love to men and
women and cursing the fucking United
States of Amerikkka. It was a time of
inverted patriotism, where the very thing
that made you hate the Pentagon, Tricky
Dick and LBJ was the same thing that
made you think that maybe this country
had some greatness after all, if we could
only get rid of the pigs. My anti-capitalist
instincts were bedfellows with my desire
for sexual freedom, which to this day
seems antithetical to the WASP work ethic.
Jimi's music tied these two things together
for me.
There's also another element that
linked my revolutionary interest in him to
my sexual interest. Everyone who has read
the Hendrix biographies knows about Jimi's
huge sexual appetite, his big dick and his
black erotic presence in a white milieu. But
during my lesbian strip-show years, 1 found
an unexpected piece of information. One
of Hendrix's closest running buddies was a
woman named Devon; his lover, room¬
mate, pimp, dealer and adviser. She was
often called a supergroupie and linked to
Mick Jagger and others. But the most inter¬
esting thing I read was that she was bisexu¬
al, a hooker who only loved women but
fucked men for money and advantage. That
describes most of the women I met at our
lesbian burlesque.
1976:
Captain and
Tennille release
"Muskrat
Love." Erotic
lyrics reach an
all-time low.
1981;
Wendy O.
Williams arrest¬
ed on obscenity
charges in
Milwaukee for
simulating sex
onstage with a
sledgehammer.
She is arrested
the next day in
Cleveland on
similar charges.
1984:
BBC radio bans
"Relax" by
Frankie Coes
to Hollywood
for "overly
obscene lyrics."
The song reach¬
es #1 on the
charts immedi¬
ately thereafter.
1986:
Wayne Hussey
of The Mission
UK banned
from a night¬
club for fucking
in the ladies'
room.
1990:
Charles
Freeman,
record store
owner, convict¬
ed on a felony
obscenity
charge In
Florida for sell¬
ing the 2 Live
Crew album As
Nasty as they
Wanna Be to a
minor.
1992:
Lead singer for
the punk band
The Insaints
arrested in
Berkeley, CA for
having sex with
fruit onstage, or
as she charm¬
ingly put it,
"putting a
banana in my
coochie."
1992:
Madonna
releases the
book Sex, a col¬
lection of erotic
photos and
essays featuring
herself.
1993
Funk impresario
Rick James sen¬
tenced to jail
for the kidnap¬
ping, torture
and sexual
abuse of a busi¬
ness associate.
—Compiled by
Paul Kimball
One thing that sex and music have in
common is rhythm: throbbing pelvic
impulses that reduce one and all to the level
of rapine sex machines and comely kittens.
Since the Invention of electronically repro¬
ducible music, every bedroom has become
a primal swamp of passion, with sexually
stimulating sounds oozing out of strategical¬
ly placed speakers. When asked what the
best music to fuck to was, the following
poignant replies stand out:
Leonard Cohen: "In
the old days, people
used to say my stuff
was very good for
that. I prefer Chopin's
'Nocturnes' myself."
Lydia Lunch: "it
depends on the mood
and the costume
you're wearing."
Gene Simmons (Kiss): "A Mozart piano con¬
certo or the sound of a girl giving me a hum
job, whichever works."
Robert Plant: '"Bossanova Baby' by Elvis,
that'll do. But it's best to turn the music off
altogether and keep the music In your
head."
Mark Mothersbaugh (Devo): "It doesn't mat¬
ter if it's disco or acid or house or rock, but
it has to be an LP, a plastic record. You
need a scratch so that it skips and loops
back to nirvana."
jiM Thirlwell (Foetus/Clint Ruin) : "For fore¬
play, I like ski lodge/cocktail music. Then I
like two or three stereos playing at once—ail
for one night of lovemaking."
)ayne County: "I'd have to think about that
because I haven't had sex in over a year I
have no libido. Sex is just too much trouble;
I'd rather have wet dreams. But if you put
on the Velvet Underground, the sex could
probably turn out to be, shall we say, inter¬
esting."
Redman: "| get busy to P-Funk.
Yo, I freak to the straight-up
I funk."
—Compiled by Steven Blush,
publisher of
Seconds, a New
York-based music inter¬
view magazine.
Devon's bisexuality isn't
commented on much in the typ¬
ical Hendrix bio except to say
that Jimi "straightened Devon
out." I found that very funny,
because my reading of a woman
like Devon is that she queered
Jimi in. Hendrix wrote a song
about his muse, "Dolly Dagger,"
which one official biographer
claimed was a rhyme mocking
Devon's relationship with Jagger.
Obviously, this rock journalist
didn't know the biggest contri¬
bution Black English has made to
the queer vernacular: Bulldagger.
Dolly/Devon was a bulldagger
par excellence: "Been riding
broomsticks since she was fif-
teen/Blowing out all the other
witches on the scene/She got a
bullwhip just as long as your life/
Her tongue can even scratch the
soul out of the devil's wife/I seen
her in action at the player's
choice/ Turning all the love men
into doughnut boys."
I wondered if "donut boys"
meant guys who couldn't wait to
get Dolly's dick up their ass.
Instead of imagining Hendrix's
big dick, I saw his begging ass¬
hole and Dolly taking him with
her magic broom. After all, men
don't say "'Sense me while I kiss
the sky" if they haven't been
down on their knees.
I find it absolutely plausible
that Hendrix was a dyke daddy, a
fellow traveler, and the queer
femme icing on his soul was
something I could anchor my
militant teenage sexuality to. Of
course, Tm practicing the ulti¬
mate Spectator's Choice, making
my hero into me, believing that
we shared a faith instead of a
good beat we could dance to.
Hendrix introduced me to the
blues, to sex funk and to divine
cacophony. If I hadn't been 15 at
the time I could not have hung
my political and erotic identity
on his hook—but I was.
I've fantasized about fuck¬
ing many rock and roll stars, but
I've never again had the feeling I
got with Hendrix that I could
fuck the whole wide world. With
Jimi you could love it and leave
it: the two philosophies were not
exclusive. He carved an axis bold
as love and left me—and a lot of
others—spinning in it forever.
Susie Bright is the editor of
Best American Erotica, 1993
(Colliers) and the author of Sexual
Reality: A virtual Sex World
Reader (Cleis)
(ym
(m
Xem Idol Fantasy
y earliest "'Tims'*
I of getting heal s ^ through 1968
X of adult carnality? ^ 3et rates fre-
These days, niy Monke«^h^,^
uent play, and ^ gut
hanks to Nichfodeon) in Peter
ack then my fave ° Jj^Jhly British! tam-
hild-proportioned. an Diminutive
(ourine-banger for the
,.,,g„,toslng.hes,PP««^
.ove," "1 Wanna Free ) hand
roy") tunes adegedy pje-adolescent hor-
contrived solely to P of little
Casting, a teen goes°farther back. 1 once
Of course, tradition g ^ Frankie
asked my ‘"“p’^Yatl 1940s when Sinatra caused
enthusiast m the late , jpopieiu of pop-
riots at concert ''e’^ue . „.^ho wasn't!"
culture el^^.idation s P ^ greasy but
cutest?" Hollywood set out to
But with The Monke ’ ^^ity__exploiting
realize a huge i«®!^Bettng PP
the earliest qu^^-y/'^pHars) via media-engen-
with Mom and D^d s ' role was pin-up.
dered "musiaans wdose p 1
Who cared if /i'dn 7 cared if they
instrumeiits everything. Within
could really sing. § ggt to know on TV
their songs pen-pal ®®^?p/rhe overwhelming
Girls were (andjemam^ t^^^^ ^
audience target- Sure, hor y precocity
the early 1960s had Annett^ |
to dwell on. in the 70 s, recota ^g ^ ^
Ladd, The Runaways and dream.
Pussycats tostered inany Hot
But while tnig P jack-off picto-
A'4' tVlP 3.£[6 of 10
were raised to think — sLe Big
or so, their formative lusts coui J ballad-novella
Larihy ^otherfu „Let's Spend
"Seasons in the Sun /-Kama’s Got a Squeeze Box.
the Night Toj ^ctcSt^d 'm^nilaS^yaced disconcert-
ing urges in comfortaWe contegs. .^^ symbolisin
The 70s were a ^ saturday-morning cartoori
into hairless, Innocent bo&^S^t scrubbed
theme-song star Rick p creemdreems deluding
face in a never-ending closer to home, we had
Jack Wild and Gilbert O Su iv . jjy stoned-look-
’s?a«» CassM,. «Sr bai
ing Leif Garrett-all ^ i^wed and discarded
“".““bog- John SSk-me“l‘l
ness, sounded the f ^p^Sig the New Kids on the
tancy on the teenscene. Foh^ 8 evidence
Block, Marky Mark's ^ big arms, big
of new frontiers in fg^ed below the equator.
Kes^l ?v:nS\o« raps. The entire pack-
still think wistfully of Da'^ ^nt there: Thanks for
ain't quite my type^ foroative fantasies for several million
Sfcolll-Tdri^ ^
Dennis
BY ANN POWiRS
I have a friend who first discovered sex
by staring at the photograph of Keith Richards on the cover of the
Stones' Out of Our Heads. In that shot, the boys are just outgrowing
their respectable haircuts and look ready to burn their art-school but-
tondowns; shoved in a stairwell, they peer out through the seamiest
possible shade of black-and-white film stock. Keith's the most rum¬
pled and the most seductive of all, the kind of guy you'd turn to in
the morning and say, oh, God, before saying, what the hell. My
friend was seven when she pulled this record from her dad's stack. All
she knew was that looking at Keith gave her funny feelings, electric
itches, something creeping around inside that she couldn't name.
When you're a kid and sex remains more mysterious than compli¬
cated, pop music gives you hints. At least that's what it did for me and my
friends during the 70s: the red transistor radio I tucked under my pillow did¬
n't pick up dirty blues or Millie Jackson, and there hadn't yet come a time
when a pop singer could simply announce that he wanted to lick you up and
down. Because the explicit was rare, we learned through nuance. And in
showing how eroticism can hide in sneaky corners, pop taught us some
subtleties nobody bothered to discuss in Sex Ed.
In my youngest, Beatle-loving days. I'd imitate John sucking in his
breath on "Girl," going light-headed in simulation of lust. I knew his
backward sigh signaled something uncontrollable; the lyrics said this
girl treated him badly, he'd leave if he could, but—there was the
blood rush, and the moan on that word "girl" that proved he was
enjoying it. I felt like I knew the Beatles so John's suave moves didn't
scare me, just intrigued me, sort of like Minnie Ripperton's coy substitu¬
tion, "Every time that we...oo/?/' on "Loving You." These songs cultivat¬
ed the language of repression and careful relief that I'd learned through a
conservative upbringing. Every feeling, every phrase in its place.
Sexual Aides
How to order them without embarrassment.
How to use them without disappointment.
T oday, people are interested in improv¬
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nrhe Xandria Collection, Dept, o 7 9 4 x I
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I _ Void where prohibited by law. _ I
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But then came Chaka Khan. Now,
she scared me. When I was ten, I consid¬
ered 'Tell Me Something Good" a floating
monument to all things sexual, and felt as
terrified in its presence as I was intrigued.
The song began with a bass that slapped
and a wah-wah guitar that positively
drooled; it sounded like masculinity
unleashed. In strode Chaka, voice
open and dripping like the honey that
covered the naked woman on that Ohio
Players album cover. For years I thought
the first line was, "You ain't got no kind
of pill inside," an elliptical reference to
birth control. Actually, Chaka's telling her
man to loosen up, take off that Qiana shirt,
have some fun. But I could hardly follow her
advice when, in the break, a chorus of pant¬
ing Rufus members encouraged Chaka toward
her final seduction. "Tell me something good,"
she leered right back, "Tell me that you like it."
The "it" really threw me. There could be no mis¬
take—she wasn't after friendship or the pedestal
adoration promoted in songs by the Bee Gees and
their brothers in teen idoldom. She wanted him to
like "it," a material thing, her body, their sex.
That one "it" forced me to admit that romance
led beyond the quick kiss Parker Stevenson would
steal from that week's guest girl on The Hardy
Boys. Chaka's plain-spoken desire registered more
deeply than did the misty cartoon Donna
Summer seemed to embody in "Love to Love
You Baby." Summer's moaner was the kind of
hit we giggled over; as a reference, it got
passed around like the copy of Jaws that cir¬
culated in fifth grade, with the wet-panty
scene earmarked and chocolate-stained.
I wouldn't cross the next border until
I heard Bryan Ferry sing "Love is the
Drug," and began to comprehend that
sex would be as intricate and daunting
for adults. But by then I'd learned
how to masturbate, discovered Bruce
Springsteen, and almost heard about
the Clash. Those funny feelings were
here to stay.
Ann Powers is o Senior Editor at The Village Voice.
She no longer pursues sexual relationships with
rock musicians, but still uses music to get off.
Lately
I've found
myself won¬
der in g just
how old you
have to be
before you start
turning in to your
parents. 25? 30? 40?
Or could it simply be the
natural evolution of society that
makes people say, "That would
have never happened when I was
growing up"?
Those very words echo in my
mind whenever I listen to rappers
known for their sexual candor like
Luke or Too Short: "Most brothers
try to take freaks out/ I get a
woman stick my dick in her
mouth/ they spend money on a
movie and some dinner/ but Short
DogTl go straight up in her." Of
course, the argument has been
made that R&B singers have always
sung about sex, they just dressed it
up with a bit of romance, hiding
their real intention with innuendo.
True, but not all soul crooners
bothered to dress it up.
Take the 50s hit "Sixty Minute
Man" by The Dominoes, undoubt¬
edly one of the first braggadocios
ever recorded. "There'll be fifteen
minutes of kissing'/ then you'll
holler 'Please don't stop'/ there'll be
fifteen minutes of teasin' and fifteen
minutes of squeezin'/ and fifteen
minutes of bio win' my top," And it
didn't stop there. Fast-forward to
the 70s and you have Marvin Gaye's
"You Sure Love to Bail," which basi¬
cally went, "Oh baby, please turn
yourself around/ oh baby so I can
love you good/ oh baby, I'll make
you feel so good/ oh sugar, just like
you want me to.. ./oh baby, you sure
love to ball."
So what's the big deal? Black
music has always dealt with sex. I
think it's a good thing that today's
musical artists are expressing a
more explicit, if controversial, side
of their sexual selves, primarily
because it shows young women
that love and sex are two different
things.
Watch any daytime talk show
and sooner or later you'll run
across a group of gals who gave in
to sex when what they really
sought was love and intimacy.
Why is it so hard for most women
to separate love and sex? Men seem
to have less of a problem telling the
difference. One school of thought
says it's biological; it's women's
baby-making hormones that fuse
and confuse the two. I think it has
more to do with social condition¬
ing. After listening to enough
Luther Vandross songs, she'll swear
any man willing to treat her well is
sincere and deserves to be "treated"
right back. Where is the voice that
warns us females about the guy
who chats us up for a week or so
and finally beds us, only to never
be heard from again? It seems talk¬
ing about love and relationships is
much easier than frankly discussing
sex. If no one else is willing to lay it
on the line, guys like Too Short
deserve some credit.
Perhaps by listening to some
of the songs that have middle
America in an uproar, today's
young women will learn that sex is
sex and love is love. And when the
two meet, it's a sweetness that's
anyone's weakness.
Gwendlynn Meno is a music criUc/contribut-
ing writer for Thrasher magazine. Most
noted for her essays on hip-hop music and
culture, her work appears regularly in the
East Bay Express and S.F. Weekly.
1. 2 Live Crew: Me So Horny
2. Aerosmith: Love In an Elevator
3. Alien Sex Fiend:
Drive My Rocket (Up Uranus)
4. Bel Biv DeVoe: Do Me Baby
5. Berlin: Sex (I'm a . . .)
6. Black Flag: Slip It In
7. Blondie: X Offender
8. Bow Wow Wow: I Want Candy
9. lames Brown:
Get Up I Feel Like Being A Sex Machtne
10. The Buzzcocks: Orgasm Addict
it. Neneh Cherry: So Here I Come
12. Color Me Badd: I Want to Sex You Up
13. Commodores: Brick House
14 . Elvis Costello: Pump It Up
15. Jayne County (aka Wayne County): Cream
in My jeans
16. The Cramps: Can Your Pussy Do the Dog?
17. The Cure: Let's Go to Bed
IB. Dead Kennedys: Too Drunk to Fuck
19. Depeche Mode: Master and Servant
20. The Divinyls: I Touch Myself
21. The Doors: Back Door Man
22. Dr. Hook & the Medicine Show:
Your Pussy Don't Taste Like It Used To
23. Ian Dury: Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll
24. Fear: Beef Baloney
25. Frankie Goes to Hollywood: Relax
26. Peter Gabriel: Sledgehammer
27. Marvin Gaye: Let's Get It On
28. Generation X: Dancing With Myself
29. Gleaming Spires:
Are You Ready for the Sex Girls?
30. Richard Hell and the Voidolds:
Love Comes in Spurts
31. Rick James: Super Freak
32. Jane's Addiction: Whores
33. Grace Jones: Pull Up to the Bumper
34. KC and the Sunshine Band:
Get Down Tonight
35. The Kinks: Lola
z*
B¥ JONATMAN HAYiS
To BEUEVE WHAT YOU READ
IN The Media is to see rave as a
NON-STOP underage ORGY, FUELED
BY HALLUCINOGENIC LOVE DRUGS.
This simple-minded conclusion is
REACHED BY LOOKING BACK ON PREVI¬
OUS GENERATIONS WHERE REBELLION
HAS EXPRESSED BY ATTACKING MAIN¬
STREAM ETIQUETTE THROUGH LOUD
"wild" music, conformist TASTE
^HROUGH UNORTHODOX FASHION,
AND SKEWERING TRADITIONAL MORAL-
fTf WITH OVERT SEXUALITY. BUT RAVE
S DIFFERENT FROM PAST REBEL YOUTH
CULTURES, PARTICULARLY WHEN IT
COMES TO SEX.
In A WORLD STRETCHED OUT
ON THE ASHES OF THE SEXUAL
Revolution, the idea of teenagers
HAVING SEX is RELATIVELY FREE OF
SHOCK VALUE. MOREOVER, BECAUSE
Of AIDS, THE IMPLICATIONS OF A
BACKSEAT FUCK ARE RADICALLY
CHANGED—^THE APPLE IS NO LONGER
•UST FORBIDDEN, IT'S ALSO BEEN
POISONED.
Rave culture is now mainly
white teenage SUBURBAN THING,
AND RAVE STYLE IS A COOLLY IRONIC
ON 70s LEISURE, REjOICING IN A
FONDNESS FOR POLYESTER TRASH AND
*HE WARM-TONED KITCHEN COLORS
jF 1974 — AVOCADO, GOLD, RUST.
On the whole, the look is either
Too Large (the little waif
drowning helplessly in oversize
clothes) or Too Small (the aban¬
doned child, too poor to afford
"HE CLOTHES SHE HAS OUTGROWN).
The boys' clothes are functional:
DVERSIZE, WIDE-LEGGED PANTS,
BAGGY T-shirts, knit caps and ten¬
nis shoes; white, mainly. Girls'
►ASHION IS OFTEN DELIBERATELY SEXU-
-JZED Little Girl: striped,
STRETCHY TOPS WORN SEVERAL SIZES
TOO SMALL WITH MINISKIRTS THAT
don't match. The sexualization is
ALWAYS UNDERCUT BY SNIDE POP-
CULTURE COMMENTARY—A TIGHT
BLACK EXERCISE BRA WILL BE OFFSET BY
A Super Mario Brothers backpack.
Some wear their hair in pigtails,
OR PINNED BACK WITH CHEAP, PLAS¬
TIC BABY BARRETTES. OTHERS WEAR IT
SHORT AND RAGGED, DYED AN
UNEVEN SHADE OF PATHETIC ORPHAN
Blonde.
Raves start late and last
UNTIL DAYBREAK, THE MUSIC IS
ANONYMOUS TECHNO; DRUM-HEAVY
AND EXTREMELY FAST (1 40 TO 200
BEATS PER MINUTE VERSUS DISCO,
PLODDING ALONG AT 1 20 BPM)
WITH STOMACH-TURNING BASS
SEQUENCERS. VOCALS ARE SPARSE,
A FEW DISEMBODIED SAMPLES.
Sometimes the music is so fast
THAT there's LITTLE OPTION FOR ANY¬
THING BEYOND VIOLENT TWITCHING,
AT WHICH POINT SOME RAVERS
DEFAULT TO BLISSING OUT ON THE
FLOOR, NESTLING ON THE BACKPACKS,
SUCKING A LOLLIPOP, CUDDLING A
STUFFED ANIMAL AND WATCHING
FRIENDS dance AROUND THEM.
As THE NIGHT DRAWS ON, THE
MIXTURE OF SUSTAINED FRENETIC
MOTION, LOUD RHYTHM AND
Ecstasy gradually takes over to
BECOME SENSUALLY TRANSCENDENT.
The room finally dissolves and
EVERYONE LOVES EVERYONE AND
EVERYONE IS A PART OF EVERYONE
ELSE, AND THE SPACESHIP SLIPS ITS
MOORINGS AND THE CONTROLS ARE
SET FOR THE HEART OF THE SUN.
Drunk on endorphins and sweat
AND NOISE AND LIGHT AND METHYL-
ene-dioxymethamphetamine, they
FORGET THE HORRENDOUS BANAL
EMPTINESS OF A WORLD WHICH THEY
UNDERSTAND FAR BETTER THAN THEIR
PARENTS WHO MADE IT.
Or maybe it )ust looks that
WAY. The first time I went to a
RAVE I FOUND IT FASCINATING AND
ALMOST VISCERALLY APPALLING. I FELT
A BRIEF BURST OF SOMETHING AKIN
TO GUILT (an EMOTION 1 QUICKLY
RATIONALIZED AWAY) OR MAYBE PITY
WOULD BE MORE ACCURATE. I'M SURE
THAT "older" PEOPLE (I'm 33) HAVE
REACTED SIMILARLY TO YOUTH MOVE¬
MENTS THROUGHOUT THE CENTURY,
BUT THIS ONE SEEMS PARTICULARLY
TRAGIC. The night had the feel of
A Mike Kelly stuffed animal
INSTALLATION, A SENSE OF BATTERED,
ABJECT INNOCENCE.
I THINK THE CORE OF RAVE'S
ATTRACTION IS THIS TEMPORARY
RELEASE FROM A DOOMED AND UGLY
WORLD. And with this shared
EPHEMERAL BLISS COMES A STRONG
SENSE OF COMMUNITY, A PAINSTAK¬
INGLY DETAILED MICROCULTURE
WHICH AFFORDS A SENSE OF BELONG¬
ING, A SENSE OF CONNECTION. It'S
THE KIND OF EXPRESSION THAT'S
MORE IN LINE WITH PUNK NIHILISM
THAN BLIND MDMA-DRENCHED
HIPPY UTOPIANISM. STILL, THE
INTENSELY IRONIC DEADPAN MOOD IS
MORE CHILLING THAN PUCK. I THINK
it's the mocking of their
OWN CHILDHOOD—THE LITTLE-GIRL
CLOTHES, THE LOLLIPOPS, THE PACI¬
FIERS—THAT I FIND PARTICULARLY
EERIE. There's a sense that rave is a
VIRTUAL Island of Lost Boys and
Girls, a kind of sensual reposi
TORY FOR LATCHKEY KIDS. ThAT SAID,
SOMETIMES RAVE SEEMS AN APPROPRI¬
ATE RESPONSE TO BEING YOUNG IN
THE TWILIGHT OF A DYING CIVILIZA¬
TION, A BEAUTIFULLY FUTILE SHOW OF
RESISTANCE TO THE ONSLAUGHT OF A
FRAGMENTING CULTURE WHICH HAS
NOW ACCELERATED TO THE POINT AT
WHICH THE INDIVIDUAL HAS NEITHER REL¬
EVANCE TO IT NOR CONTROL OVER IT.
[S
Despite using phrases like "horren¬
dous banal emptiness," Jonathan
Hayes is indesputably a master of
irony. He lives in New York City,
where his many sophisticated friends
frequently praise his utter lack of sin¬
cerity.
36 . La Belle: Lady Marmalade
37 . Cyndi Lauper: She Bop
38 . Led Zeppelin: Lemon Song
39 . Madonna: Justify My Love
40 . Meatloaf: Paradise by the Dashboard Light
41 . George Michael: I Want Your Sex
42 . Musique: Push Push in the Bush
43 . Ted Nugent: Wang Dang Sweet Poontang
44 . Liz Phair: Fuck and Run
45 . Pointer Sisters: Slow Hand
46 . Iggy Pop: Cock In My Pocket
47 . The Pretenders: Tattooed Love Boys
48 . Psychedelic Furs: Into You Like a Train
50 . Lou Reed: Walk on the Wild Side
51 , Smokey Robinson: Cruisin'
52 . Roxy Music: Love is the Drug
53 . The Runaways: Cherry Bomb
54 . Salt n Pepa: Shoop
55 . Sex Pistols: Bodies
56 . The Slits: Love And Romance
57 . Soft Cell: Sex Dwarf
59 . Rod Stewart: Tonight's the Night
60 . Donna Summer: Love To Love You, Baby
61 . Sylvester: Do You Want to Funk?
62 . Tribe 8: She's got les-bo-phobia
63 . The Vapors: Turning Japanese
64 . Velvet Underground: Venus in Furs
65 . Warrant: Cherry Pie
66. Barry White:
Can't Get Enough of Your Love
Scandalous sex
rumors follow rock
stars around like
groupies. Here's a sam¬
pling:
—Angie Bowie finds
David Bowie and Mick
Jagger in bed; "Angie"
is really written for
David.
— Nick Cave plays an
entire Seattle gig in
1987 with a boner.
—Backstage with The
Doors, a groupie is fucked
with a red snapper.
— Elvis has groups of young
girls strip to their "white
panties" and wrestle each
other in his living room.
—Allen Ginsburg brags about shar¬
ing a night in bed in 1967 with
Mick lagger and Parliament mem¬
ber Tom Driberg.
— Madonna cruises the Avenues in NYC
in her limo and picks up Latino boys.
—Jim Morrison gives Jimi Hendrix a
blowjob on stage.
—Porn star Savannah gives Slash a
blow job while crouching under a
table at LA's Viper room.
— Rod Stewart is rushed to the hos¬
pital and has his stomach pumped
after swallowing several pints of sperm.
— Pete Townsend was misquoted when he
said he was bisexual.
—Whitney Houston is a lesbian.
— Olivia Newton-John is a lesbian.
— George Michael is a heterosexual.
67 . Wendy O. Williams and The Plasmatics:
Sex Junkie
68 . X-Ray Spex: Oh Bondage, Up Yours!
69 . Frank Zappa: Dyna-Moe Hum
AND THE LIFETIME
ACHIEVEMENT AWARD TO...
PRINCE, FOR WRITING MORE
POP SONGS ABOUT SEX
THAN ANYONE, EVER.
—Compiled by Richard Kadrey
and Mary Elizabeth Williams
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/ must be male human beings as well as females, I was ten
J / years old. I was at the New York Wild-life Preserve with both
^ / my mothers and one of my greatmothers, in the Hall of
^ Darkness. The exhibits were illuminated with red light, to
which the animals were not sensitive, so they behaved as
they did during the night.
I was looking through the window at a colony of small mon¬
keys when I noticed one of the monkeys near the glass raise its
Wndq Another monkey abruptly approached the first mon¬
key from the rear, its small, hairless penis erect like a pointing fin¬
ger, and mounted the first.
''Do you know what they're doing, Ellie?" whispered my
birthmother in my ear.
j had forgotten about everyone else. "Not exactly, mama."
"Well, this is called sex. The male is raping the female, so
that the female will have a baby. It's very painful for her."
"Why doesn't she try to stop it?"
"She can't, honey. It's holding her down, forcing her.
Besides," my mother continued, stroking the back of my
' neck, "she wants to have a baby. She'd do anything to , ■ ^
. ‘ have one."
' . It was alt over in less than a minute. At the end,
> the male moved a few times even faster and made
’ ‘ a grotesque face.
iiW;*.
• V : ;7 ' f v\!i; ,*
Somewhere along the way, I had stopped
pretending that I was a monkey and started
trying to imagine what a male human was
like. The only pictures 1 had to guide me
were from the fairy tales I'd watched
on the eyephones. In my mind, I
was happily raped by trolls and
ogres and giants and monsters. .
Do people have sex,
like those monkeys...
She laughed Indulgf
''Don't worry, honey. N
more. At least not in tt
world. We're very lucky
now."
.i.dulgently.
honey. Not any-
not in the civilized
We're very lucky to be living
1 was awake. It was very dark and
our house seemed completely still. 1
got on my knees and pressed my cheek
against the pillow. I raised my night¬
gown, reached behind and put my
pinkie in the little hole I knew was there.
It hurt a little at first, and then, as I cau¬
tiously moved it in and out, it felt strange
and inexplicably comforting. I closed my
eyes and pretended to be a little monkey
getting raped. Although it began to feel
nice in a way, nothing much happened,
and after a few minutes I took my finger
out and rolled over. With a wonderful sense
of guilty pleasure, 1 fell asleep.
After that, whenever I couldn't fall asleep,
and sometimes before I'd even tried, I'd play
monkey. As time went on, I graduated from
pinkie to my middle finger.
One night when I was twelve years old, I
tried using two fingers. As I pressed them in
and out, I felt a peculiar tugging toward the
front, just where the fine, downy hair was
beginning to darken and thicken. Puzzled and
curious, I snaked my other hand under my
body and touched myself at the front of my
slit. I was shocked to discover the hard, tender
kernel of sensitivity buried there.
After several minutes, my body felt like a
sponge filled with warm, heavy liquid. I
thought of the monkey's long thin naked
penis. The sensations inside my body climaxed,
erupted. I remembered the monkey contorting
its face in apparent pain, and realized that I
must be experiencing what it had been feeling.
Either my birth mother was wrong, or I
was a freak. Females did feel what males felt
when they passed their seed. Or at least this
female did.
But by the age of sixteen, I was no
longer content with my fantasies. I wanted
to find out what male human beings
really looked like. But as an upper school
student, my access authority in the virtual
library was quite limited. In college, things
changed. As a history major, I was finally
allowed to view materials that predated
the Great Cleansing. As soon as I had been
granted the authority, I put on my eye-
phones and asked to view a news report
from the year 2043. Immediately, the virtual
space before me was transformed into a cable-
cast news studio from one hundred years ago,
and standing behind a wooden lectern were a
woman and, next to her, a man.
I gasped, realizing that the fairy tales
I'd viewed as a child were parodies of the
way males differ from females: the greater
size and bulk, the coarser features, the facial
hair, the deeper voice. The person who
stood and spoke before me in the virtual
space looked more like an extremely unat¬
tractive woman than a beast from a chil¬
dren's story.
After a few moments, the virtual
scene before me dissolved as a news story
was presented. It was concerning a meet¬
ing of the political leaders of the time,
most of whom were men. Some of them,
particularly the younger ones without
facial hair, were not at all repulsive.
That night in my dormitory room, I
could barely contain myself as I waited for
my roommates to fall asleep. I got on my
knees, my chest heaving and my pussy
already wet and aching. I imagined it was
one of the younger men on his knees
behind me, between my legs. He had deli¬
cate features, and no hair on his face,
almost like a woman. As I rubbed my cli¬
toris, I pushed three fingers into myself and
imagined that they were the man's penis. I
reached my climax almost immediately.
In the days and weeks after this first
experience, I immersed myself in the times
long ago when males were half the popula¬
tion. Nearly everything I saw surprised me.
Not all the men were rapists or killers: some
were gentle and kind. A great many of the
visuals were stories about the attraction
males and females felt for one another. A
man and a woman often touched and
kissed each other tenderly, as moth¬
ers do. The greatest surprise of ail
"See right then?" my
mother asked. "At the climax,
it passes its seed. That part is
very painful for it, too."
"Then why does it do it?"
"It has to. The pressure builds
up Inside and it has to release it.
Otherwise it gets very sick."
The male let go of the female and
withdrew. Although the red light
made it impossible to tell what color
anything really was, in my mind the
penis was a startlingly bright, wet
pink.
"What happens when the female
makes her seed? Does that hurt,
too?"
"No, that's different. Females
never go through the terrible pain
the male does when it climaxes
and discharges its seed. We're
very lucky to be female."
Later, when 1 was in bed, my
birthmother came in to my
room. I took off my eyephones
and put them on the night-
stand. She sat down on the side
of the bed.
"Do you understand what you
saw at the zoo today, honey?
What the monkeys were doing?"
I hesitated. "1 understand that
he raped her so that she'd have a
baby. The part I don't understand
is...how come people aren't male
and female, like all the animals?"
"Well, a hundred years ago there
used to be male humans, just like
there are male animals. But the
males were mean and cruel. They
raped and killed everybody all the
time."
"And they used to live right along
with women and girls?" I asked
incredulously.
"Before the Great Cleansing. Now
we don't have any males at all. Except
for the ones we keep as semen
donors. And they're kept in
special places, so they can't
hurt anyone anymore."
My mind was filled
yet again with a pic¬
ture of the monkeys
copulating.
a
My quest to know what the
; human penis looked like eluded me
for the longest time. Then I realized
that the medical documents of the
i era would have to account for the
male. It took me a number of tries
before I found the room that had the
restricted ancient anatomy texts, but I
, was finally successful. The books con¬
tained detailed illustrations of the male
anatomy, and some had actual pho¬
tographs. Disappointingly, none of the
illustrations I found showed the penis erect.
^ was that the woman was sometimes
shown experiencing a climax, just
like the man, just as I did. My
" V, mother was wrong. I was not a freak.
I neglected my studies entirely.
Sitting in my carrel in the library—
with the students on either side of
me presumably pursuing more
legitimate topics—I'd put on the
phones and play the sex scenes
over and over again, my hand
between my tightly crossed legs.
I'd time my silent climaxes to
coincide with that of the women
in the visuals. Back at the dorm,
I'd replay the scenes in my mind
as I fingered myself in the show¬
er or in my bed.
In these scenes of men and
women having sex, the woman
was usually bare-breasted and
often totally nude, but In the
dozens or perhaps hundreds of
visual stories I watched, I never
saw a man completely naked
from the front. It was obvious
that this was intentional, a taboo.
I was almost tearful with frustrated
curiosity.
At end of the first term of my junior
year in college, having spent the last several
months doing nothing but watching visuals, I
failed all my examinations, and was requested
to take an indefinite leave of absence. At first, I
lived at home, but soon I found a job In New
York City, and I moved out. I took a small,
single room in an apartment
a run-down neighborhood of
hattan near the Central Park
homeless encampment.
n
I was ashamed of what I had made of
my life, and I hurried from place to place
without meeting people's eyes. But gradu¬
ally, I began to relax. Now, if a woman on
the transit strip or the sidestrip met my eye,
I didn't immediately look away.
n
One midday, when I was eating lunch
as usual at the mealshop, I heard a woman
ask, "Mind if I sit at your table?" I looked up
from my plate. I had seen the tall, heavyset
woman in the shop before, although we
had never spoken. She was a little older
than me. She had short, straight, unnatu¬
rally black hair. Her clothing was very plain
and dark. She seemed rougher than the
women I had grown up with.
"It's kind of crowded here at lunch
hour,'- she said with an apologetic
smile. Her voice was low-pitched but
not unpleasant.
I followed her glance and saw that
there were no empty tables, and few
empty seats. "Sure, go ahead," I said.
"Thanks." She slipped into the chair
opposite mine. "My name is
Stephanie," she said. "Stephanie
Helenchild." She offered her hand.
"Ellie," I said. "Ellie Susanchild."
Over our two trays of food, we shook.
Her hand was large, with long fingers,
and strong. She picked up her utensil
and looked at her food. "Nutritious and
appetizing," she said sarcastically.
"Cheap and edible," I replied.
We talked all through lunch. I learned
that she lived nearby, in another run¬
down neighborhood bordering Central
Park. Like me, she performed maintenance
on the virtual space.
As we were leaving the restaurant, she
turned to look at me." Doing anything
after work?"
"Not really," I said.
"I feel like going out after work.
Want to join me?"
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know exactly. I thought
we'd get something to eat, and
then maybe go to a music club."
I hesitated.
"Come on, Ellie. I'll look out
for you. It'll be okay."
a
Stephanie took my hand and led
me from one deceleration strip to the
next until we reached the sidestrip. A
garish sign projected over the avenue
announced The Classics Club. "This is it,"
she said. Inside, the club was dark and
crowded. I recognized the style of music
from the visuals I had spent so many hours
watching. Near the door was a long bar,
where women were sitting. Many, like
Stephanie, wore their hair short and had lit¬
tle facepaint or jewelry. Stephanie bought us
drinks, and led me to a table. On the large
dance floor, women were dancing in the
strange, jerky way I had seen in the old visu¬
als. And, barely visible at the other end of
the club, was a stage on which the musicians
were playing. After we finished our drinks
and began to edge our way toward the
stage, I realized that the musicians
were...men. Seeing my reaction,
Stephanie laughed.
"They can't be real," I gasped.
"What are they?" 1 shouted over the
music into Stephanie's ear.
She said something I couldn't catch. I
turned my head, and she lowered her
lips to my ear. "Holograms. They're real¬
ly something, aren't they?" Stephanie
said, her lips brushing my ear. "It's like
they're almost alive."
I felt a peculiar exhilaration in my
chest. I sensed that somehow she knew
about me...about my secret. "When I was
in college, I spent a lot of time watching
visuals from this time."
"What kind of visuals? What were your
favorites about?" she asked, smiling a myste¬
rious smile.
I must have blushed. "They were
about..men and women. How they used to
be together." I felt unable to explain, but
Stephanie was nodding as if she understood.
"Love stories."
Stephanie turned her head and put her
lips to my ear again. "I have some very spe¬
cial visuals back at my place I think you'd
really like. Want to see them?"
She lived in an ancient building
that, centuries ago, must have been
quite luxurious, but now was as decrepit
as mine. Her room had been, apparent¬
ly, one half of the apartment's great
main room. She closed the door
as I looked around. The most
remarkable feature of her
room was set of shelves
li
containing row after
row of small rectangular
boxes.
""What are thbse?" I asked,
pointing at them.
"They're my collection
of antique visuals, from
before the Cleansing," she
said, crossing the room and
taking one of the boxes.
"Like in the space?"
t asked.
She opened the box and a
black rectangular cartridge
slipped out. "Oh, I don't think
you ever saw anything like this in
the space," she said with a smile.
"1 had to pay a lot of money for
these."
"If they're not on the net, how
do you view them?" I asked.
"Come over here," she said,
.valking over to her bed. "I have a
olayer."
On a stand next to her bed was
an antique device housed in strange
ciack metal. A set of eyephones was
attached to the device by a narrow flexi¬
ble connector. I sat down on the edge of
the bed and took the phones in my
hands. They had the same
flat, grainy quality as the
ancient ones I'd seen in school. I saw a
good-looking young man and young
woman in early 21st-century bed¬
room. There was some conversation,
and then they were embracing and kiss¬
ing. I felt my heart pounding as I
watched the man gradually undress
the woman, caressing and kissing her
as she did so. The woman, now com¬
pletely naked, undressed the man. I
held my breath as I watched the
woman unzip the man's pants and
lower them to show me, for the
very first time, a human penis in
full erection.
My clit was hard, and my pussy
was soaking my underclothes. I was
so astounded and excited that I felt
light-headed. I closed my eyes for a
moment, trying to calm myself.
When I opened my eyes again, the
man was lying on his back, and the
woman was straddling him. She held
his penis in her hand and rubbed it
back and forth between her legs. My
own labia glowed with sympathetic
pleasure. She lowered herself onto his
penis, sighing loudly into both my ears.
Without having touched myself, I had
already almost reached climax. Without
thinking, not knowing what to do, I tore
the phones from my head.
Stephanie had opaqued the windows and
dimmed the roomlight. I did not see her for
a moment, and then she appeared from
behind a tall screen. She was naked except
for a loose fitting top, which covered her small
breasts. At her crotch, held by nylon straps
around her waist and between her legs,
was...an artificial penis. It looked just like what I
had just seen in the visual.
"Shall we do what they're doing?" she asked,
approaching me slowly.
She did not really look like a man, but she was
close enough. I nodded. "Yes," I said, my voice
choking me.
"Cali me Stephen, then," she said,
and reached for me.
Andrea at the Center, a novel by J.P. Kansas, is being
published later this year by Masquerade Books
(New York).
Besides art directing Future Sex, Evan Somstein is an
electronic musician and a member of the
digi-goth band, Battery.
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s they made
the date on the telephone, he
lost half of her words, the
density of thrill in her voice
muffling all other noises. He
could feel her suffering shapes
squeezing through the fiberoptic
connection, wrapping around
him in tentacles of promising
pleasure. He thought of her
teeth teasing the veins on his
neck, and her tongue mincing
around the enhanced beauty
of her lips. ^
e went out to the airport,
but before he entered the
safe continuity of the
Marriott he drove into the
airport parking lot. He
stopped the car and strained to see his
face in the mirror, knowing he would
look different in an hour.
He hadn't seen her since the latest
surgical installment. The resonance of
her voice held the faintest hint of mas¬
culinity and it catapulted the words
from her hotel line down his ear, rock¬
eting through the epicenter of his
body. Belly and cock responding to
her expectant silencesy his body
ignited to the promise of her final
creation.
Opening the door she cast
her eyes on the carpet in a
parody of innocence, her
elegant fingers grip¬
ping an estrogen
highball. He stood
back to admire
the body: a
perfection
of surgical
resplen¬
dence. Her slender hips flirted against the
film of a black negligee as she handed him
a vodka gimlet, radiating a secret smile.
Cautiously she stood back and let him
appraise the creation of an ingenious knife.
He reached forward and brought
down her convertible breasts while his
hands opened the white permanent press
of her thighs. Her nipples were more supple
than he had imagined, and he was glad to
have paid extra for their sensitive construc¬
tion. Her flesh fell over his hands, and he
marveled at the square awkwardness his fin¬
gers made against her pliant body.
Searching her skin with his palms he re-cre¬
ated her, imprinting the new body with the
creases and folds on the sole of his hands.
The red laminate on her fingernails was
like ten droplets of blood that lay against the
electrolocized porcelain of her skin. He put
his mouth to her breasts and inhaled; her nip¬
ples conduits to hidden opiates of desire. Her
eyes drooping under the aphrodisia of the
first time, she opened her thighs and revealed
the vault of the new vagina. Reaching
between her legs, his fingers coronated the
lips of the neovagina. Slowly she unlaced her
grafted gift—the Immaculate Pussy unsewn
before him. She peeled his clothing away,
whispering pre-recorded words, until he
uncovered her mouth with his and bit the sili¬
cone. Softly, it moved under her teeth.
Their skin came together like convulsive
Instruments creating a pheremonic symphony.
Her beautifully ravaged body lifted to meet his
as previously veiled desires were swallowed.
Thus entwined, their bodies began the
gradual process of passionate and gentle
cannibalism. Eros arrived on crutches as
she rehearsed the first act of pleasure.
His mouth limped down her belly, his
tongue sliding toward the miracu¬
lously healed wound.
He reached
forward and
down her convertible breasts while
his hands opened the white
permanent press
of her thighs
Her clitoris was an anatomical
fait accompli and his kisses paused
there, tongue twirling in geometric
precision to match the musical
direction of her moaning. The mes¬
sage of mutual desire relayed from
his tongue and created tiny fits and
waves underneath the gown of her
expensive flesh. When he lifted his
head from between her thighs she
dripped from his mouth, his chin, his
fingertips. He pulled himself up from
the small of his back and parted the
strange, warm folds of her pussy.
Diagrams for the mechanics of fucking
were inscribed on the insides of her cunt,
on the shaft of his cock, and these binary
codes enveloped their bodies and dictat¬
ed their rhythm. He drove his hips into
her, her long legs capturing him In a fierce
web of sinew and skin. Soon, his prick
began to decode her translations of the
feminine illusion.
The ruin of her virginity was ushered In
like a 21st-century exorcism. Infected by his
ministrations, he snatched her newly pil¬
lowed hips to him and pushed his cock into
the fleshy mechanics of her brilliant arrange¬
ment. Her neck snapped back violently, and
his eyes followed hers as they rolled into the
shelter of her lids. Her hands spoke against his
back, saying, "make me, make me."
Fucking her, he watched the silent lan¬
guage of her smeared mouth as it curved
around the sounds that were thrust up the cen¬
ter of her flat abdomen, across the expanse of
the pink silicone mountains, up again through
the delicate arteries in her neck. Her face
described the grammar of her soul and in turn
reflected his own arrival as a Brand New Species
of Man. As he unraveled Inside her, his chest
buoyed by her hard breasts, and shaft of his
cock pushed to the back wall of her sculptured
cunt, he too, was recreated.
As they breathed the fiery narcosia of the
first orgasm, she closed her eyes and listlessly
waved good-bye. The fresh pink walls of her
cunt contracted as she seized his sperm and
secreted it in her own vault. Prosthetic hymen
in shreds, she was made real.
Alice Joanou is the author of Cannibal
Flow^er and Tourniquet. Her new book,
Black Tongue, will be out later hisyear.
Steven Johnson Leyba has been
called the father of "sexpression-
ism." His genes are as mixed as
the media on his canvases.
Pussy
Sidtnese Twins
A pussy that's really a pussy. A
phallus that's a phallic symbol.
The world of J. K. Potter is so
literal, it's surreal.
Potter's art begins on a 4xS view
camera and airbrushes appropriately
dating from the era that spawned
Dadaism, the 1920s. He's illustrated 2S
books and numerous paperbacks for
people who do to
words what he does
with images: writers
like Stephen King,
J.G. Ballard and
Lucius Shepard.
The photographs
from his portfolio
are from a series he
calls "Neurotica," which deals with
Potter's fascination with "the transfor¬
mation and erotic distillations of
human and animal physique."
Like the works of his predecessors
Cocteau or Dali, Potter's creations are
better suited to absorption by the psy¬
che than explanation by the brain. And
they're so enigmatically sensual, so dis¬
turbingly beautiful, you can't help but
hold on to the images long after you've
turned the page. See if you don't agree.
Lor further information on originals
and signed limited edition'prints, send a
*SASE" to: P.O. Box 11, Middleboro,
MA 02346
Avian a
◄ Honorable Mention
Mark Chamberlain
New York, NY
Untitled
n few issues back, Future Sex
laid down the gauntlet to our
readers: You show us what
rocks your libido, and wehl
pony up some cool prizes for
the best of the lot. For weeks
the entries flooded in: from
cartoons hastily scribbled and
faxed off to elaborately conceived
photo-montages, from silk-screened
T-shirts to prototypes for fetish gear.
So many of the submissions were
great, we decided to give out honor¬
able mentions and include those
images in the winner's circle too.
Here they are:
Honorable Mention ►
Chris t.
Minneapolis, MN
The Sacrifice
A 1 ST Place
Greg Mobley
Arkadelphia, AR
Liz Two
Honorable Mention ►
G.. Moore
Falls Church, VA
Honorable Mention (Not Pictured)
Carl Vogtmann
Chicago, 1L
''Reptile Lover"
Honorable Mention (Not Pictured)
J. Cook E. Brown
Portland, OR
"Untitled"
Honorable Mention (Not Pictured)
Iligili
New York, NY
"Untitled"
Honorable Mention (Not Pictured)
Francis Repas
New York, NY
" '69' Suit; Leather (Prelim)" illustration by all means due.
We had a wonderful entry by a
PHOTOGRAPHER NAMED BrAD
Wallis that was in the running
FOR ONE OF THE WINNING ENTRIES;
HOWEVER, IT SIMPLY WASN'T
PRINTABLE DUE TO THE GRAPHIC
CONTENT (i.E., EMISSION OF BODILY
fluids). Honorable mention is
A Honorable Mention
Lon Huber
San Rafael, CA
Huccer
Honorable Mention ►
J.C. Brown
Portland, OR
"Joseph Coming
◄ Honorable Mention
John W. Pruitt
Columbia, MO
Kama
aZ'.s Place
^ - LaPorta
. ^ORK, NY
A 3rd Place
Ronald D. McDonald
Austell, Georgia
Untitled
Honorable Mention ►
Bathsheba Fine
Chicago, IL
Experience Bliss
F U
Call 214-289-8328 via modem,
The resource for revolutionaries.
squemish !!!" (Age statement required)
Item No. 42 S&M Far East Collection Catal€>g $3
Item No. 43 “Fix by Cinemagic 1” $25
(Ihr. Prevue Tape)
Item No. 44 “Pix by Cinemagic 2” $25
_ (Ihr. Prevue Tape)
Subscription and Software
(IBM format) $20
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Item No. 50
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Item No. 63
Eros catalog $1
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Hem No. 48
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Item No. 40
Catalog $3
THE
ANARCHISTS
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The resource for
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The world's largest
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imported erotica. 85
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videos and products
from each corner of
the universe—^This
collector's item is the
ultimate catalog in
the history of erotica.
Also available:
awesome Japanese Erotica VHS video and Nude
travels of California & Hawaiian Beaches
VHS video. The most provocative
nude beach video ever. Privacy insured!
Item 60 Catalog $4
Hem 61 Japanese Video $15
Hem 62 Nude Beach Video $30
scnnobEx
Cyber Age Erotica
TECHNOSEX
Combining hot
sex, S&M, and
science fiction!
"Erotica has found a
comfortable home in
the fantastic arms of
science fiction."
—San Francisco
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Sandmutopia
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Hem No. 53 Catalog $2
Hem No. 54 Sample Pack, 3 books & Catalog $25
VISA®
fzsm No. 55 Books catalog FREE
Tem No. 56 Brain Boosters book $15
If'bur mental and
' sexual life may be
improved with the
pharmaceuticals,
vitamins,
I nutrients herbs
and foods
described in
BRAIN
BOOSTERS.
Includes world¬
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life extension
doctors for
prescriptions,
and addresses for
ordering smart
substances. (510)548-2124
BON VUE
BUYER^S GUIDE
Erotic fantasies?
The Bon Vue
Buyer's Guide is an
extensive adults-
only color cata¬
log. A source for
products relating
to B&D, S&M,
and other kinky
fetish activities.
Damsels in
Distress preview
video of 50 one-minute takes from
50 different videos.
Materials that are bound to please.
: rtem 45 Catalog $5
(tern 46 Damsels Video $32
Item No. 47
Catalog $4
CHAMPAGNE
COLLECTION
We offer hot
videos, leather
pleasures, a huge
selection of sex
toys to meet
every imaginable
need, fighting
female videos—
Beauties
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much more.
Catalog price
refunded with
first order.
Privacy
Guaranteed—Must be 21.
BLT, the sarcastic
zine of punk rock
humor, at age
four, spawned the
counterculture
erotic magazine
Blue Blood for
vampire, leather-
sex, tattooing,
cybersex piercing,
medieval sex,
backstage sex, and
more funny car¬
toons. ''Kudos to
Blue Blood for
showing the penis of the male ."—The Nose
Item No. 57 BLT zine + great big book $18
Item No. 58 Blue Blood Sub $22
Item No. 59 Blue Blood Sample Back Issue $8
PASSIONATE
LIVING
\Vhat are other
people doing to
zain sexual self-
esteem? What
could you do to
maximize your
\ual potential?
Find out in
ssionate Living,
a quarterly
magazine
promoting
sex-positive perspectives and
exploring sexual frontiers!.
KINKY BIZARRE
EROTIC CATALOGS
AND FETISH
STORIES.
S&M, B&D, spanking,
domination, TV/TS,
female wrestling—
almost every fetish
imaginable. Our prod¬
uct catalog includes
hundreds of way-out
magazines, books
and videos. Our
Manuscript Catalog
#6 includes 136 pages
of over 950 different sexually explicit stories.
Exclusive from Executive Imports.
Item No. 69 Product Catalog $3
Item No. 70 Manuscript Catalog $3
Item No. 71 Both Catalogs $5
PASSIONATE
LIVING
\Vhat are other
people doing to
cain sexual self-
esteem? What
could you do to
maximize your
\ual potential?
Find out in
ssionate Living,
a quarterly
magazine
promoting
’tern No. 66
Item No. 67
No. 68
sex-positive perspectives and
exploring sexual frontiers!.
Sample Copy $5
1 year Subscription $22
2 Year Subscription $40
Curium Design, San Francisco
RAGING RHINO
PRODUCTIONS
The hottest, sexiest
and—surprise!— most
intelligent adult
comic publisher in
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Miami Herald called it
'"pornographic fantasy
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while Screw raved
about the "slick,
sexual trendiness" of
these comics. Rhino Grab Bag of six
scintillating comics, plus Rhino's own 4-color
catalog. Erotic Screams!! Seven books in all
at a special, one-time price.
Item 82 Catalog $3
Item 83 Grab Bag & Catalog $20
I City _
I Yes, I am over 21: _
State
(signature) I
Code:BMOC7 '
*$2.50 for 800# Visa, MasterCard handling. I
All orders are shipped directly from publishers. Canadian and Foreign Orders may require 1
additional postage paid directly to the publisher later. No foreign credit card orders. t
SHAYNEW PRESS
These books begin
where Madonna's stops.
Fine art photographs of
individuals and couples
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persuasions, with
revealing interviews.
Sexual Magic: high-
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Shipping and tax included.
Item No. 79 Sexual Magic $28
Item No. 80 Sexual Portraits $28
Item No. 81 Both Books $48
Item No. 75 10 cassette volumes $69
Item No. 76 Vol. 1 (Ihr.) $20
MAIL ORDER
CENTRAL
CATALOG.
Find weird,
forbidden
alternative
magazines, books,
and videos on sex,
drugs, rock & roll,
art, literature
movies, culture,
humor, travel,
entertainment,
fashion, politics
and more Like a good newsstand
in the palm of your hand.
Item No. 78
Catalog $3
Address.
To order, call
1 isao}
and have your
Visa or MasterCard ready.
Or fill out the form below and send with a
check or money order to:
m^ML €
P.O. Box 31353
San Francisco, CA 94131
Allow 4 to 6 weeks for delivery.
Often much less—never more.
Circle item number and add down.
Item No.
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
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51
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Xandria (catalog) $3_
Anarchist's BBS $20_
(Subscription & Software IBM format)
Sweet Magic (catalog) $3_
Sweet Magic (Ihr. prevue tape #1) $25_
Sweet Magic (ihr. prevue tape #2) $25_
Bon Vue (catalog) $5_
Bon Vue (Damsels Video) $32_
Champagne Collection (catalog) $4_
Good Vibrations $2_
(Toy Catalog)
Good Vibrations $2_
(book & video catalog)
Homegrown Video (catalog) $5_
Homegrown Video (video sample & catalog $12_
TechnoSex (book) $10_
TechnoSex (catalog) $2_
TechnoSex (sample pack) $25_
Brain Boosters (catalog) FREE_
(with handling*)
Brain Boosters (book) $ 15_
BLT (zine & book) $18_
Blue Blood (subscription) $22_
Blue Blood (Sample Back Issue) $8_
Asia Blue (catalog) $4_
Asia Blue Oapanese video) $15_
Asia Blue (Nude Beach video) $30_
Fantagraphics (Eros catalog) $1_
CanaMicro 'Flames' (CD-ROM) $39_
CanaMicro Adult CD-ROM (catalog) $2_
Passionate Living (sample copy) $5_
Passionate Living (1 Year Sub.) $22_
Passionate Living (2 Year Sub.) $40_
Executive Imports (product catalog) $3_
Executive Imports (manuscript catalog) $3
Executive Imports (both catalogs)
Iris Silhouette (Ami Nude)
Iris Silhouette (Jennifer Nipples)
Iris Silhouette (Karen Striptease)
FTG (10 cassette volumes)
FTG (Vol. 1)
Pure Panties (video & photos)
Mail Order Central Catalog
Shaynew Press (Sexual Magic)
Shaynew Press (Sexual Portraits)
Shaynew Press (both books)
Raging Rhino (catalog)
Raging Rhino (grab bag & catalog)
I am enclosing:
for my order $_
for mail-order handling $_
Total Enclosed $
Name.
IRIS SILHOUETTE
CD-ROM erotica for
the discriminating
collector. Original
pictures of enticing
women wearing
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exposing themselves
nude. Each contains
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Item No. 72
Item No. 73
Item No. 74
Ami Nude $20
Jennifer Nipples $20
Karen Striptease $20
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SPUDWAY
^Access: Itelnet to speedway, net 7777
Rate: Free
Users with Internet access can check
out Speedway for free. Access to this
no-charge chat board is an accom¬
plishment in itself
though, with 20 tel¬
net commands in a
row failing to get
me in on more
than one occasion.
Once you've
arrived, choose a
name for your¬
self at the login
prompt. There are adult areas
like the de rigeur hot tub as
well as frat and hacker
forums. It's fast-paced and
somewhat impersonal, and
the feel is that of an all-night
college dorm bullshit session
mixed with a lot of guys
cruising for sex. A frenetic
shot of adrenaline youth,
for those who thrive on
confusion.
—Mark Faigenbaum
^me: $45/year, no charge for
connect time
Modem: (908) 495-6996,
V32.bis/V42.bis (908) 495-
4487
Voice (908) 787-0663
Based in New Jersey,
Islenet has been hosting sex
chat for ten years. After the
login prompt, you're greet¬
ed with "Oh, (Your name
here), you're inside of me
now." Next, admit the lust in
your heart and other transgres¬
sions in Confessions or dive
into Fantasy and read smutty
stories submitted by users, like
"The Trouble with Twins."
Perhaps the outstanding charac¬
teristic of this board is its warm
atmosphere and general lack of
macho bravado common to so
many BBSes. A discussion about the
ups and downs of meeting people in
cyberspace, for example, was hot,
honest and free of a lot of good 'ol boy
drivel. The smooth interface provides
several different ways to exchange public
and private messages, and access to files.
GIFs, shareware and Usenet newsgroups.
—Mark Faigenbaum
EXPOSURE
^mdern: (212) 691-2679
Voice: (212) 691-2166
Rate: 3-month membership/$25 for 3hrs/3 MB
download a day
Adult-oriented BBSes are springing up
like frontier cathouses, and like such cheap
bordellos, seem to be infinitely repro¬
ducible and characterless. After all, where
the driving
force is sex, the urge
for homesteading
and community¬
building tends to be
secondary. Real
Exposure, an NYC-
based board, seems
stuck midway
between general-
interest and
absolute filth. It
provides high¬
speed (up to 57.6K)
access to ThrobNet, KinkNet and a few
other pervNets, and has the standard
array of public-domain software,
homespun erotica and GIFs. Lately,
their CD-ROM offerings have been
cut back following recent rumors of
an FBI crackdown on BBSes for copy¬
right infringement (supposedly spear¬
headed by Playboy and Disney). The
dirty pickings are a little sparse and
the interface a little unwieldy, but the
board does offer acceptable Internet
access. At this stage in its develop¬
ment, Real Exposure is more of a gate¬
way than a destination for the virtual
pioneer.
—Aubin St. Malo
St. Martin's Press, $19.95
THE LAST SEX
edited by Arthur and Morilouise Kroker
St. Martin's Press, $15.95
These two books look at the evolution
of both the human body and our defini¬
tions of the body in a culture of
inestapable technological invasion/
seduction. Spasm is
both a meditation on
the relationship of the
body to virtual reality,
and a virtual docu¬
ment itself. The book
comes with a CD con¬
taining state-of-the-art
sampled, sliced and
diced hip-hop cut-ups of
mass media sound bites,
and the text read by
author Arthur Kroker.
Stepping back from the techno-hype that
surrounds most VR books, Kroker makes some
pithy observations about the possibili-ties of
our impulses
toward post¬
humanism,
and asks
some funda¬
mental ques¬
tions about
what life
will be like
when we
get there.
The Last
Sex is an
anthology edited by Kroker and his wife,
Marilouise, that looks at the future of
gender in an age when the transgendered
have emerged as a walking and breathing
challenge to old sex definitions. Both
the Krokers and the authors included
(Kathy Acker, Shannon Bell, Stephen
Pfohl) present rallying cries for what the
Krokers call "transgenic gender," a new
gender that lies beyond our current
ideas of sexuality, one that exists out¬
side the dualistic man/woman model.
Whether it's expressed through digital
technology, genetic manipulation or
the surgeon's knife, the morphed body
is the body of the future. Like co-vol-
umes of an updated Gray's Anatomy,
Spasm and The Last Sex will chart your
journey through this new, man-made
adolescence.
—Richard Kadrey
%
FERNATA
Nicholson Baker
Random House, $21
Arno Strine has the ability to stop
time. During his leisure hours, Strine
removes women's clothing and while
not imposing himself on them, he does
interfere with them. After all, he only
wants to run his finger through his
coworker's pubic hair which "is very
black and nice to look at."
The latest from
Vox author
Nicholson Baker
revolves around
Arno's adventure
in the Fold—also
known as The
Fermata—where
the entire uni¬
verse, except for
Strine, is frozen in
time. The Fermata
isn't exactly breaking virgin ground
in erotic writing—though several
vibrator/dildo/butt-plug-obsessed passages
are excruciatingly luscious—but it does
address the ethical and moral responsibility
of fantasy and—as in Arno's case—fantasy
that becomes reality.
By unapologetically documenting Strine's
love for women and his need to touch them.
Baker prompts the reader to embrace and
FUXURE SE
.5
explore the benefits of sexual fantasy—not to
level it with scorn and judgment.
—Allison Diamond
PiMALIA
Mfed by foani Blank
Down There Press, $14.50
Throughout your life,
how many pussies have
you seen up close? If
you're a het man or a
gay woman this could
be quite a few. If you
are a straight woman, it
may be all of one (pro¬
viding you've held a
mirror between your
legs). Femalia provides
thirty-two pages of
women's genitalia. There are no captions and
no scratch-and-sniffs, although a "map" of
the vulva is provided in the back.
The idea behind this book is to show the
amazing variations in women's anatomy. It's
not meant to be erotic. Instead it is an extra¬
ordinary document of the different shapes,
sizes and colors cunts come in.
— Daryl-Lynn Johnson
i JAGUAR AND THE ANTEATER:
>RNOGRAPHy AND THE NODERN
WORLD
by Bernard Arcand, translated by Wayne Grady
Verso, $29.95
BERNARD
ARCAND
THE JAGUAR AND
THE ANTEATER
; me*
What makes modern pornography the
way it is and why does it exist at all? These
are the questions French Canadian anthro¬
pologist Bernard Arcand attempts to answer
_ from the unusually broad
perspective of his own dis¬
cipline. His climactic con¬
clusions, however (in
which he finally explains
the book's title), aren't
quite as satisfying as his
descriptive foreplay.
Arcand provides
one of the most urbane,
perceptive and elegantly
argued survey of the public debates about
pornography and their various hidden agen¬
das and assumptions. Examining the U.S.
Supreme Court's decision that an obscenity is
a work lacking "redeeming social value," for
example, he observes, "The representation of
sex, in other words, constituted a sin that
needed to be redeemed." In short, Arcand
believes that pornography, by encouraging the
individualist act of masturbation and insistent¬
ly removing sex from the full context of life, is
a quintessentially modern thing. It offers free¬
dom (from social and physical constraints) but
at the price of loneliness (in alienation and
removal from "real" experience). Despite the
considerable truth in this, Arcand doesn't
account for such developments as the couples'
video market; porn—like Hollywood movies—is
too diverse to characterize so simply.
—Laura Miller
IT BOY
f Cary Indiana
High Risk Books, $10.99
A suspenseful tale of whoredom. Rent
Boy palms the imperfect sphere of sex play
for pay. Written as a series of letters in this
Valley-Boy-meets-Gen-X tone (lots of like,
you knows and whatevers), Danny details
his experiences as a New York City wait¬
er, student and rent boy: a whore who
mainly fucks men, but will do anyone—
anything—if the
price is right.
Danny's hilariously
rude commentary
leads us through the
crowd of jet-set
snobs and street hus¬
tlers, and the scene
for closet dick smok¬
ers: "You can't really
make out the faces until you're up
close, everything at a distance is fuzzy
and vaguely threatening. Like a
Rothko painting, but I mean, who
wants to blow a Rothko painting?"
But when he hooks up with a crimi¬
nal doctor and a slutty nurse, his
world goes black. This is a masterful
presentation of a world that laughs,
sparkles and bleeds,
—Lisa Palac
t conics: an anthology
BIG BITCH
by Spain Rodriguez
Last Gasp of San Francisco, $14,95
Big Bitch is a collection of short
strips from comics veteran Spain
Rodriguez that
revolve around this
super-spy's life. She
does everything—
from saving third-
world countries
from U.S. Army bac¬
terial warfare testing
to playing a high-
priced dominatrix to
CEOs. This blonde is
no young bimbo, but she has a high
firm ass and tits like the French vanilla
cones she is so fond of. She doesn't like
rude men, limp dicks or anti-porn femi¬
nists. Her motto is "Don't fuck with Big
Bitch," although her favorite come-on is
hiking up her skirt and fingering herself.
Her manservant, Asquith, aids her and
provides his tongue for her clitoral plea¬
sure when the job is done.
The strips are so short that Big Bitch
seems to be wrapping up a case and sitting
back with Asquith's head in between her
legs every other page. While I'm all for
women getting as much head as possible,
Td feel better if she worked a little harder for
the money.
— Daryl-Lynn Johnson
f CONIX
hus Artists
Ediciones La Cupula S.L, $9.95
For those who don't speak Spanish, Kiss
Comix is a purely visual experience. So why has
this title been flying off the
racks regardless of local
Spanish-speaking popula¬
tions? Because the pictures
are very dirty. Each issue
contains a collection of seri¬
alized stories illustrated by
an internationally diverse
group of artists. The print¬
ing is excellent, the colors
vivid and the content
brazenly sexual. There are nothing but highly
idealized bodies in these pages, so don't be
shocked by the foot-long schlongs or ten-gal¬
lon jugs. And don't be surprised if you find
yourself enrolling in Spanish classes.
—Paul Kimball
ART OF SPANKING
ftten by fean-Pierre Enard, illustrated by Milo
Manara, translated by Elizabeth Beti
NBM Publishing, $17.95
The Art of Spanking is an elegant softcover
black volume featuring the pencil, ink and
watercolor sketches of Milo Manara, Italy's
renowned erotic artist and
ass fancier. Spicy and
intriguing, the story by Jean-
Pierre Enard is filled with
chance encounters on trains,
luscious young women and
debonair older men. One by
one, Enard's protagonist
teaches a new generation of
women the joys of corporal
punishment while expound¬
ing a philosophy of individualism and free
love, where spanking becomes an end in
itself (not just a means).
—Paul Kimball
AT IS THIS THING CALLED SEX:
DTOONS BY WONEN
Edited by Roz Warren
The Crossing Press, $12.95
Sex inspires many
reactions, but perhaps
the most common is
laughter. What Is This
Thing Called Sex? sam¬
ples women's wildly dif¬
fering jabs at this time-
dishonored subject.
Straight sex, bi sex, dyke
sex and juvenile experi¬
mentation all get atten¬
tion here, making this book entertaining and
educational, especially for those hapless boys
who still don't understand that girls need orgasms
as much as they do. Includes great work by Shary
Flenniken, Roberta Gregory, Nina Paley and Ellen
Forney.
—Paul Kimball
5 |
SEX
Tommy Boy Records
From
appropri¬
ation of
music
samples to
transgres¬
sive lyrics,
rappers
aggressive¬
ly assume avant-garde aesthet¬
ics—except regarding sexuality,
where gender roles mostly
range from retrograde to crimi¬
nal. From the whiffle-ball-bat
rape in the Beastie Boys' "Paul
Revere" to the "homemade
abortion" in Akinyele's "I Luh
Huh," male rappers routinely
joke about abusing women's
bodies. LeShaun pimp-slaps
this legacy in her amazing sin¬
gle "Wide Open" by assuming
a male prerogative as she eyes
a hot young homie; "Have
you ever, ever, ever in your
long-legged life/Had a sneaky,
freaky finger make that butt
feel so nice?/Cocoa-butter
coated or some Vaseline/So 1
can stick it in with ease and
turn that ass into a fiend."
With LeShaun's flirty, devil¬
ish, and damn persuasive
delivery, it's no surprise
homey likes it. Just a few dig¬
its up his back door, she
rhymes, and he's "screaming
like a 'ho, begging like a
bitch." He even yelps
leShaun's name in a fruity
falsetto, and no wonder—you
should see the size of girl¬
friend's fingernails.
— Rob Tannenhaum
UAmcoArs: the
INCOATS
Zeffen Records
Before the word empower-
nt became the poster child
for today's
postmodern
feminist doc¬
trine, there
were. The
Raincoats.
G e f f e n
Records is
now releasing
their entire
'og, including their eponymous
" debut album. Their distorted
-and-go vocal arrangements
shuffled with bruised tales of rape,
void and desolation stood out in
the stream of power-punk-pop
bands in late-70s London. Aside
from their dry cover of "Lola"
and Velvets space-jam "You're a
Million," The Raincoats had a
hopelessly vivid sound. Thb
choruses-in-the-round, the dis¬
cordant harmonies and com¬
pelling accounts of female
yearning and angst characterize
the much-missed Raincoats,
and set them apart from all the
rest.
—Allison Diamond
liNi kill: pussy
UPPED
Kill Rockstars
Bikini Kill's record compa¬
ny hates us, but that's okay.
We love Bikini Kill. Unlike
the pre-fab fashion-victim
neopunk that graces MTV
and much college radio,
Bikini Kill's songs are shot
through with the kind of
awkward beauty and frenzy
that has always been at the
heart of punk. It's not the
sound of a mature musician
or a fully-rounded and
informed point of view. It's
an explosion of heat and hor¬
mones, of manic desire and
rage, and it punches from the
amps in a kind of brutal joy
at just being able to make so
much goddamn noise.
If the history of the first
wave of punk mostly reads
like a boys' camp seating
chart, it's the riot grrrls like
Bikini Kill who will write the
history of punk's second wave.
—Richard Kadrey
MCA
»ECI
of a Mad Band
What happens when a
group who made their name
singing soft, sweet love songs
decide to change their technique,
spice up the lyrics, and get
provocative? We'll soon see as
Jodeci, who were accused of being
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Finding Your Dominant Woman
Four Sensual Scenes for Beginners
Finding the Sensual Submissive Woman
Selecting a Professional Dominatrix
.Erotic Whips: Selection and Use
The Tightest Hug: Bondage 101
Four Sensual Scenes for Beginners II
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FUTURE SEX
too soft by a number of male lis¬
teners after their first album Forever
My Lady skyrocketed to the top of
the charts, tries to prove they're
just as hard as the next hip hop
group. In place of the haunting
promises created by innuendo
are descriptions like "make it
sticky when I lick it," "lay here
next to me, so I can keep you
humpin' to my beat." Thanks to
the efforts of group member/
producer DeVante Swing, Jodeci
seems to be exposing their
"harder" side without compro¬
mising their very danceable, yet
soulful, grooves.
—Gwendlynn Meno
RIWLL out:
Wind Records
Brian Eno once described
ambient as a kind of music that
"rewards attention, but doesn't
demand it." This description
applies equally to Eno's brand
of sculptural ambient as it does
to the dance and techno-
derived ambient that makes up
the two-CD Chill Out set.
Disc one serves up the reptile-
languid trance grooves of big
name rave scene-makers such as
KLF, Moby, Young American
Primitive and Meat Beat
Manifesto. On disc two, you get
a glimpse of ambient-things-to-
come in the form of such hot (or
chilled) up-and-comers as
Omicron, Human Mesh Dance
and Evolve Now. To get a real
sense of what Chill Out sounds
like, just remember this quote
from The Irresistible Force:
"People don't want to dance all
the time. Sometimes they want to
stop and listen. I say it's time to lie
down and be counted."
—Richard Kadrey
|Fp>LIC DUiER
Wmulan Records
Another vinyl walkabout
through forgotten and ignored
junk-rock recordings from earli¬
er, more innocent times. Frolic
Diner is garage grunge with the
smell and taste of old cooking
grease and the ambiance of
cramped, sweaty stages with
bands that are so wasted on
'ludes or speed that they
haven't even noticed the
show is over and the strippers
have all gone home. Tunes
like "Chili With Honey" by
Danny Bell and the Bell
Hops, "Congo Glide" by
Ivan Ward & The Swingsters
and "Mashin' Grapes" by
Jimmie Maddin & the Party
Makers all have the giddy
urgency of the clueless and
the doomed. This is what
David Lynch would have
loved his prom to sound
like.
—Richard Kadrey
ttina: seleniko
^en Linnet
Seleniko is a lively record¬
ing of Finnish folk tunes—
mostly about love and mar¬
riage—by an acoustic band
with four strong female
singers. Though the music is
from Finland, you find a lot
that's familiar here: the
dance rhythms are reminis¬
cent of Irish jigs and the
tight, soaring vocal lines res¬
onate with Asian and Middle
Eastern influences. Imagine an
intimate, bounder version of
the Bulgarian Women's Choir.
But there's something about
folk music from countries with
tough climates. While most of
Varttina's songs are about love,
they manage to work in big
doses of regret and death.
You'll probably be happier just
listening to the melodies and
skipping the translation of the
lyrics.
—Richard Kadrey
E IN THE CINEMA
fn Entertainment
Milan Entertainment's lat¬
est music compilation is
comprised of several classic
movie love themes and
many lesser known (better
left that way) contemporary
ones. Most notable are the
pretty, familiar "Unchained
Melody" from Ghost, the
credits-are-rolling-while-
you're-swept-away "Lara's
Theme" from Doctor
Zhivago and Shining
Through's lullaby version of
"I'll Be Seeing You." But the
listless and tepid scores
from Benny & Joon, Body of
Evidence and Prelude To A
Kiss undermine the swoon¬
ing continuity of the collec¬
tion. The standout has
Hanna Schygulla singing the
title song from Lili Marleen.
A better title might be Love
and Sedation.
—Allison Diamond
LEZ NIX
Kuki Co., Inc.,
c/o Pace Products, Inc.
Requirements: System 7, 3 MB
RAM, color monitor
CD ROM
DUm amour: zapping
MOVIE GAME
Kuki Co., Inc.,
c/o Pace Products, Inc.
Requirements: System 7, 5 MB
RAM, 8-bit color monitor
CD ROM
Japan today is like an expo¬
nential extrapolation of 50s
America: psycho corporate loyal-
cult, conspicuous consump-
:ion of burgers, cocktails and
Marlboros—and a truly inexplica-
!e sexual censorship policy. As
m-hounds know, Japanese fuck
' ims may by law portray all man-
of penetrations and perver-
but they're
digitally scrambled to hide the
pubes and genitalia of perform¬
ers. The Japanese have to make
do with bare breasts, pixelated
poking and a surfeit of bulging
white panties.
Lez Mix consists of three
slickly produced QuickTime les¬
bian sequences that each culmi¬
nate in a chirping triangle, after
short detours into masturbation,
kidnapping and bondage, foot-
fucking and a Bettie Page-like
lesbian "rape" scene (wrists tied
with pantyhose!). All the gals
are clad in corporate office garb,
except the attacker in her men¬
acing Levi's jacket. Interactivity
is limited to fast-forward, which
greatly improves the all-
Japanese dialogue.
Dr. Amour, on the other
hand, is a fully interactive sci-fi
detective labyrinth with
dozens of sex loops and a
hokey Blade Runner scenario:
some faulty but large-breasted
young female replicants were
destined for Mars, "but a lot of
it were shipped to Japan and
Italy." So you, as Mr. Taira of
the Love'N Big Tits Research
Institute, must track them
down and recall them individ¬
ually—to save corporate face,
of course. You'll spy on their
fuck adventures, snoop in
their rooms, and tail them
around town, discovering
naughty sex toys and coded
clues along the way. Write 'em
down—code numbers will
access hidden bonus porn
loops. They'll also get you to
the next chapter of the story,
where you'll medically exam¬
ine the young sexoids, which
somehow involves oil mas¬
sages and pussy licking. Much
of the mystery is lost if you
don't speak Japanese, but it's
interesting to see live-action
porn enter the interactive gam¬
ing arena. As for the annoying
pixel problem. Pace is intro¬
ducing uncensored versions of
the games under new names
later this year.
—Keith Hammond
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T U R
S E
DRCAN LOVERS
four Players Productions
Requirements: System 7.01, 4MB
RAM, 16-bit color suggested, Adobe
fonts
CD ROM, $135 ppd
In Dream Lovers, superstud
Joey Romero smiles his goofy
smile while he gives it to skinny
blonde boys in the ass. The sce¬
narios consist of a solo jerk-off
session, a menage a trois, the
classic pizza scene where deliv¬
ery boy gets more than just a
tip, and two guys in the show¬
er (complete with extra-wet
slurpy noises and good pelvic-
thumping effects).
The interactivity of this disc
is less than stimulating, only
giving you the power to
decide who Joey fucks first
and where they do it: the
couch or the chair. (The best
feature is being able to cut to
the close-ups and watch the
rod-a-thon from a front row
seat.) Dream Lovers also makes
a lot of demands on your sys¬
tem. It uses lots of RAM, and
requires a full compliment of
Adobe fonts or it will substi¬
tute whatever it can find,
making the little cards that
help you navigate through the
program look poorly typeset.
Technical difficulties aside,
Tm always a sucker for watch¬
ing babe-alicious boys fuck.
— Daryl-Lynn Johnson
THE MAPDAHS FANILV
Digital Playground Inc.
Requirements: Macintosh LC or
higher, or PC 386 or faster,
Windows 3.1, 8-bit color monitor,
Soundblaster card
recommended
CD ROM, $69.95
Here's a standard
Hollywood-joke-themed fuck
flick dumped to CD ROM and
packaged with bogus claims of
interactivity and 3D graphics.
The "3D" mansion you "explore"
is a glorified menu screen for
choosing porn loops, while the
"interactive" features are standard
on most home VCRs: fast-forward,
frame-advance and jog-shuttle.
The incestuous Maddamses
enjoy an evening at home in five
increasingly queasy vignettes: first,
Morticia and a spry young maid
ring Lurch's bells as he groans in
basso. Next, in the liveliest scene,
Gomez really pours the coals in
Morticia, ramming her so fast
that he exceeds the QuickTime
sampling rate to hilarious effect.
This cartoonish glitch almost
makes you forget his tragically
wooden repartee, like "I like you
when you hit the boiling
point." Raul Julia he ain't.
Next, a pathetic Uncle Fester,
who looks suspiciously like a fat
porn producer in a Merlin cos¬
tume, is accosted by a female
Cousin It with immense breasts
and dialogue so bad you'll be
groping for the last "interac¬
tive" feature: a quick-cut to the
juicy genital contacts. Next,
Wednesday and Cousin It have a
tired lesbian heifer-feed on a
couch, then the oily Gomez
gives daughter Wednesday an
acrobatic cartoon ram job on the
same couch. Altogether ooky.
—Keith Hammond
GLAMOUR GIRLS OF I94S
Space Coast Software
Requirements: System 6.07 or
higher, 2.5 MB RAM
Requirements: Macintosh or
Windows compatible system
CD ROM, $66.95 ppd.
Glamour Girls of 1943 is a
CD ROM full of vintage pin-up
shots, plus little historical
movies—but you probably
won't want to show it to your
sixth-grade U.S. history stu¬
dents. The bulk of Glamour Girls
is taken up with surprisingly
fetishistic images of 40s babes,
sometimes nude and sometimes
in panties and garter belts, and
often wrestling each other.
Though the photos themselves
are G-rated by modern kink stan¬
dards, the recurring images of
wrestling, of elaborate underwear,
and of women with real bodies
(ample hips and breasts that
weren't purchased in some Beverly
Hills clinic) make this disc a
tasty bit of fetish eye candy.
a there are some
movies about
Riveter and
other uncon-
come-a-long-
way-baby images. Forget them and
stick to the smut.
—Richard Kadrey
STiGO
by Romana Machado
First there was PGP, and now
next big step in data protection is
here—and it's cheap. Stego is a
software tool that takes your
encrypted messages and hides
them inside PICT image files. In
other words, no one has to know
that you have any encrypted files
on your system. By hiding mes¬
sages inside images, you get dou¬
ble the protection of standard
encryption. First, a snoop has to
know that there's hidden data
inside a normal-looking image file,
and second, the snoop then has to
crack the encryption code of the
file itself.
Like PGP, you can get a
Macintosh-compatible copy (PC
and other versions are under
development) of Stego free
from the following anonymous
FTP site: sumex-aim.stanford.edu.
Check the Infomac/Recent direc¬
tory. If you want
Stego updates
and additional
features, you
can register it
with Romana
Machado, its
author, for $15.
You can contact
her via email: romana@apple.com.
—Richard Kadrey
t FEMNiS EROTIQUES
:ted by Andrew Blake
Ultimate Video
Blake presents more of his
trademark material: glossy but for¬
mulaic, uniformly insincere sex
scenes. This time the gimmick is
sex machines, including a mechan¬
ical device that pokes a dildo in and
out of a woman's dry-as-a-bone
pussy, and some bogus-looking
high-tech gizmos. The women
employing these creations wear
Cleopatra wigs and make lots of
"porno face" (kinda like imitating a
goldfish). Every once in a while
there's a flash of imagination—two
cowgirls dust it up in a sexual cat-
fight—or even wit as a silicone
sweetie in riding clothes strolls away
from her beloved horse to a human
stud waiting nearby and wearing,
yes, a long brown pony tail. The
most sensuous sequence, shot in
black and white, features a woman
with a truly beautiful body simply
frolicking in the surf, never once
feeling com¬
pelled to dis¬
play her body
like Carol Merrill
caressing a
refrigerator.
Virtually all of
the dialogue-free
performances
seem phoned in, but anyone with a |
serious clothing fetish — whether |
it's lingerie, leather, high heels or, |
especially, latex—^will love this film.
And everyone's lipstick looks fabulous.
— Laura Miller
f TC|cyO DECADENCE
^^^cted by Ryu Murakami
Triboro Entertainment
Tokyo Decadence is a glossy,
big-budget Japanese production that
cops techniques from both the art
and porn film worlds, but unfortu¬
nately ends up combining many of
the most annoying aspects of both.
The plot: Ai is a prostitute who
works for a house specializing in
S/M. Mostly, Ai works as a bottom—
and we get lots of long, elaborate
and gorgeously photographed scenes
of humilation and bondage. Then,
Ai decides along the way that her life in
the fetish world has overwhelmed her,
and she bails out in a final contrived
and obvious scene.
The real problem with Tokyo
Decadence is that the writer/director,
Ryu Murakami, wants to have it
both ways: he wants to show us the
desperate and absurd lengths some
of Ai's customers will go to to get
off, but he wants to be sexy, too.
This tension is never resolved —
either for the
characters or the
movie.
Tokyo
Decadence is beau¬
tiful to look at,
from the sets to
the actors to the
fetish costumes—
latex body suits,
lingerie and lots of spike heels, but
ultimately the movie falls into that
weird category of Films To Watch
With The Sound Off.
—Richard Kadrey
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Sharon Mitchell's Sex Clinic
features porn butch Mitch as a "sex
therapist, " helping her clients with a
little hands and mouth-on technique.
Unfortunately her ministrations to the
limp dick of her first patient leave his
dick limp. For those who have a
Florence Nightingale fetish, sit this
movie out and find someone to play
doctor with you.
— Daryl-Lynn Johnson
Imagine an episode of Nova with
beaver and you've got the very British
Lovers' Guide series (Lifetime Vision).
Poker-faced Dr. Andrew Stanway aus¬
terely narrates while refreshingly ordi¬
nary-looking couples of varying ages
and ethnicities tackle "Advanced
Lovemaking Techniques" or strive for
"Better Orgasms," Probably not nec¬
essary if you've progressed beyond
the basics, but give the English credit
for their practicality.
—Mary Elizabeth Williams
Local girl Kiva (featured in this issue of
FS) co-produces and stars in the imag¬
inative, hardcore video Completely
Kiva. While channel surfing one
morning, Kiva finds a sexier version of
herself on the tube and learns the art
of orgasm from her alter ego. Real
female come shots and lots of double
penetration give this tape high marks.
$30 from KPC Productions, 298 4th
Ave., #304, SF, CA 94118.
—/. Castle
Despite the awkward and arty pagan
ritual scenes. The Coven (Vivid) fea¬
tures good-lookin' women and men
who sometimes seem to actually like
fucking each other. Gold stars also
given for naturalistic lighting and
high production values.
—Paul Kimball
David Bowie cruises through his
entire personality-crisis career with
Bowie: The Video Collection (Ryko
Vision), a compilation that takes him
from androgynous space boy toy to
postmodern superstar.
—Richard Kadrey
X Mix 1 (STUDIO K7) is a video col¬
lection of techno dance tunes com¬
plete with computer-generated
images from independent video
artists. Stylish and clever, the visuals
range from the psychedelic to the
scientific. Available from Video Music
Inc., 1210 Stanbridge St., #125,
Norristown, PA 19401. (215) 278-
7240.
—R.K.
In Ona Zee's Sex Academy (Ona Zee
Productions), Ms. Zee-—one of the
most Intelligent and attractive erotic
vid stars around—lectures and
demonstrates the finer points of
adult film sex with an eager and
attractive group of young students.
—R.K.
Samuel R. Delany is one of the most
influential science fiction writers alive.
His works inspired the first wave of
cyberpunks and introduced a messy,
ambivalent sexuality to a genre mostly
stuck in adolescent groping. The
Motion of Light on Water
(Masquerade) is his sexually open
autobiography set in the 60s East
Village.
—R.K.
Tales of Times Square (Feral House) is
cartoonist josh Friedman's first collec¬
tion of stories. It's a series of snapshots
of the sex biz in the Big Apple, a sort-
of low-rent and very sleazy take on
Damon Runyon's Broadway stories.
—R.K.
Beauty (Dell) is a frightening novel
about plastic surgery as an art form.
Author Brian D'Amato deftly mixes
horror, art world conceit and enough
coolspeak to fill a whole issue of
Interview.
—R.K.
The protagonist of Kathe Koja's novel
Skin (Tor) is a dancer who keeps
pushing the envelope of the human
body's capabilities. She finally
decides to redesign with her body
altogether and from that point on,
this disturbing novel becomes horrific.
—R.K.
Scott Bukatman's greatest accom¬
plishment may be that he's an acade¬
mic, and yet still readable. Terminal
identity (Duke University Press) is his
dissection of postmodernism and
modern science fiction, from
Neuromancer to Cronenberg to Blade
Runner and beyond.
—R.K.
Self-proclaimed Dyke Diva Gretchen
Phillips Is best known for recording
with the band Two Nice Girls. She's
just released her first solo recording.
Welcome to my World and a Half
a combo-pack of spoken word pieces
and folky rock tunes. Available for
$8.50 from G. Phillips, P.O. Box
4600, Austin, TX 78765.
—R.K.
I
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ANOTHER TASTE OF HONEY
© 1994 by Granger A. Davis
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